Memories of Utopia
by justanortherrainyday
Summary: Utopia wakes up one day in the World Academy Boarding School to find that she has no memory whatsoever of her past, but it looks like Ivan may know a bit more than what he reveals.  AU setting, human names used, OC: Utopia
1. A Couple Notes Before We Begin

...IT MUST BE DONE!  
>I shall be writing a Hetalia: Axis Powers love story! And since everyone shall become with Russia, it'll be about my OC, <strong>Utopia<strong>, fallin' in luuuuuvvvv...  
>xDDD<br>OKAYZ, so u know the drill. No profile, just some information. This story will proceed in such a way that you would already know that:

*IMPORTANTNESS* Alternate Universe, pplz! AU!**  
><strong>**  
><strong>1) **Utopia** = "the perfect region"; A society/place/state/etc. that is considered ideal or perfect. [A/N: don't like a "mary sue" main? well, if you stick with this, you'll find that you are very, very mistaken.]  
>2) I shall be using the country HUMAN NAMES. Here is a reference site if you get confused: .comquestion/index?qid=20090627202348AAVhP5G[i don't take credit for this webpage]  
>3) *laughs* There is a SLIGHT chance that I MIGHT imply some yaoi relationships. No, I'm not a yaoi fangirl. It's just that these relationships are literally everywhere on the internet, so it's kinda the norm for me to see USUK and FrUk and other stuffz. xD<br>4) Romantic scenes? Don't expect them to be very good. Or written soon. *laughs even more*  
>5) Also, I'm not going to follow any historical events, chronilogical order or not. I'm absolutely fascinated with all sorts of history and culture, believe me, but I'm just too lazy to stay consistent. :)<br>6) If there's something you want to tell me about any of the countries' cultures (like a tradition), then you're absolutely welcome to tell me! I reply to all and will more than likely use it in the story. **  
><strong>  
>Well, this story might take a while. And I'm not going to update as fast as I can because I like taking time with my writing. And there aint NOTHING wrong with that. ^.^<br>Prease take care,  
>Devi<p> 


	2. Chapter 1: Dark

Dark. Dark. Black. Shadows on the wall. Evil eyes. Hopelessness.

Too much. Frightening. Scary. Scary words. The room is scary. It's dark.

It's too much. I will close my eyes again.


	3. Chapter 2: Waking Up

"Are you telling me she woke up!" shouted a furious voice. "And no one _told_ me?"

_"Shut up_ you bloody git," someone hissed. "It's a damn infirmary—"

Another person shushed them harshly. "Be quiet, aru. She's still sleeping."

Something was knocked over. A bin of pencils?

"When did she wake up? Is she alright? Why isn't she awake now? _Tell me, damn it_," the first voice insisted.

A door opened.

"The reason why she's unconscious now is because we had to sedate her when she woke up screaming her lungs off," a new, heavily accented voice cut off the persistent boy. "We couldn't calm her down."

His friend must have come in as well, because a new voice said nervously, "I was so scared, Ludwig…it was like she didn't recognize us…"

"Bloody hell…"

"I-It's not that bad, right aru?"

"What did she say?"

A rumbling sigh. "Nothing that made sense. Things about oranges and the alphabet. It was mostly just screaming at us to leave her alone."

"Was there…anything about—"

Feet pounded into the room. "I came here as fast as I could!" interrupted a breathless voice. "Arthur-san, has she awakened yet?"

A sorrowful 'no'.

The door opened again. "Ah, looks like everyone is here! Except Francis, but he hasn't found out yet~"

_Screech!_

"You son-of-a-bitch commie bastard! What the hell did you do to her?"

Tense, awkward silence.

A childish, whining voice, "But I didn't do anything, Alfred."

"Stop lying, you mother f—"

_"Bi zui!"_ snapped a voice. "This is no time for your stupid fights, aru."

More silence. "Ve~, I hope Utopia is alright…"

No one said anything, but there was an air of unspoken agreement.

xXx

White ceiling. Cool air and warm sheets against my skin. Hushed voices. Strange colors in my mouth. Unfamiliar skin; it itches like crazy. Are these…my thoughts? Scary, they were, as they shifted from one sense to the next. Without warning. Without reason.

When I opened my eyes, it was like waking up for the first time. Slowly, I sat up from the white bed of sheets, running my hand through my hair to get its messy tangles out of my face. Heat suddenly flushed through my veins.

Something was terribly wrong. I knew it before I realized there were people in the room and before they realized I was awake. It was a feeling of utter horror, the kind that makes your blood run cold sends shivers to erect the hair on your arms.

Who am I? I realized that I didn't even know my own name.


	4. Chapter 3: Who Am I?

"Utopia!" exclaimed one of the many boys in the room. He was the one with striking blue eyes and glasses. "Are you okay?"

The one next to him—with thick caterpillar eyebrows—scoffed. "She's been in a bloody infirmary bed for days, and you ask her if she's okay—"

"Shut up, Arthur," blue-eyed boy retorted.

Meanwhile, the boy with a bright face and curly brown hair looked up at me from below the bed.

"Utopia?" he asked gently, his accent stressing unnecessary vowels. "Are you okay?"

I just stared at him. Who were these people?

"Um…who are you?"

The boy stared at me worriedly. "It's me, Feliciano."

Frowning, I tried to remember his face and his name. But nothing surfaced. My mind was totally wiped blank. "I'm sorry," I said. "I don't know who you are."

Feliciano was dismayed. "R-Really?"

"Did you lose your memory?" asked another boy, his neck wrapped snuggly with a baby pink scarf.

Sticking my tongue out at him, I replied, "You tell me."

The room burst into sound all at once. Everyone started to talk or speak or yell something.

"Oh God, she's really lost her memory."

"Where the doctor that was just here, aru?"

"I guess this is not surprising."

"How can you say that, Kiku?"

"Mein Gott…Arthur, go find the nurse."

"I'll be right back."

"Ve, Utopia! Please remember us!"

My head pounded loudly. I felt so horrible, not remembering who these people were. Especially since they seemed to be close to me. But really, there was no stray memory nor a distant sense of recognition—I just didn't _know_ who these people were! Gods, what is wrong with me? I know my times table and how Earth was slowly formed over the years in the universe, but all my knowledge was factual. There was nothing personal at hand, like a favorite color or my mother's name (did I even _have_ a mom?). Everything and everyone here is a stranger.

Feliciano suddenly glomped me, hugging me tight. I firmly pushed him off.

"Guys, stop," I said. They quieted down. "I'm sorry, but could you tell me who I am? And who you people are?"

Feliciano (whose accent I finally placed as Italian) gave me a reassuring smile. "Your name is Utopia, and you go to school here, World Academy Boarding School. Everyone here is your friend and we're all in the same grade. My name's Feliciano Vargas! I'm from North Italy!"

"Wait, my name is Utopia? Like, 'perfect world' Utopia? And don't I have a last name?"

Next to Feliciano was a blonde boy with slicked back hair and a German accent. "Nein, you always said you never had a last name."

"Well, that sucks," I pouted. But leaned forward, interested in learning (or _relearning,_ apparently) about these 'friends' of mine. "So, what's your name?"

"Ludwig. I'm from Germany."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Oh really? With the accent, I couldn't tell." I looked at blue-eyed glasses boy. "What's your name?"

He looked sad for a moment, but it was only for a second. "My name's Alfred F. Jones, and I'm from America! The guy that just left was Arthur Kirkland, and he's from England." He proceeded to introduce the two Asians next to him else as well. "This is Honda Kiku from Japan and Wang Yao from China. We just call 'em Kiku and Yao. There's also Francis Bonnefoy who came from France. But he's kinda sorta…well, you'll see."

Behind Alfred was a boy that looked very much like him, but with curly blonde hair and eyes more lilac than blue. Sleeping peacefully in his arms was a small, fluffy polar bear. He was the only one that hadn't said anything yet.

I nodded toward him. "And what's your name?"

Alfred looked at me funnily. "Whoa, is your amnesia that bad? I just said my name was Alfred."

I shook my head. "No, the person behind you."

Said person looked surprised and pointed to himself, saying, "Me? You can…see me?"

"Of course I can see you. What's your name?"

"It's...Matthew Williams, eh…"

Alfred suddenly turned to Matthew as if just realized he was there. "Hey! Mattie! When did you get here?"

Matthew sighed like this was an everyday thing. "I've been here the whole time, Al," he murmured, but Alfred had already turned back to me.

"So that's everybody worth mentioning!" he said, clapping his hands together.

My eyes slid away, settling on the tall boy leaning quietly against the far wall. He was wearing a long overcoat over his blue blazer uniform and a pink scarf around his neck, though it wasn't very cold in the infirmary room. Something about his ever present smile piqued my curiosity. Why was he smiling? I couldn't see anything past those impenetrable violet lavender eyes.

"Who are you?" I asked him. Clearly, Alfred had no intention of introducing this boy to me.

"Ah, yes. I'm Ivan Braginski. I come from Russia." The voice that answered was nothing like I expected. It was light and easy, almost childishly playful despite its somewhat heavy accent. Somehow, though, his voice was perfect for someone of his character. Smart, intelligent…nice? Or was he?

Alfred interrupted my thoughts by clearing his throat loudly.

"I guess," he started to say, but stopped when the door abruptly opened. In walked the caterpillar-eyebrows (um…Arthur, was it?) and a man with sun-kissed skin and thick, curly hair.

"Alright, _los niños_. The nurse isn't here today, so Señor Rome asked me to check on Señorita Utopia."

Alfred and Feliciano immediately complained. "Aww, but we just got here!"

Mr. Hispanic guy shook his head, shooing them out. "Nope, not this time, _amigos_. Now get back to your dorms, and maybe I'll call you all down when she can have visitors again."

Some groaning, but the teacher got everyone to file out. To my surprise, it was Ludwig who gave me a firm squeeze on the shoulder before leaving.

"Right then. Arthur says you don't have any memory, _sí_?" I shook my head. "Then I guess I'll have to reintroduce myself. I'm technically Mr. Carriedo, but everyone here just calls me Antonio. I teach all the Music classes." He grinned to himself. "In fact, you're in a couple of them."

"Sorry, I don't remember anything about you or this school."

Unlike everyone else, his smile wasn't reassuring. It was genuinely nice.

"Then, let's just take this step by step."

xXx

* * *

><p><strong>IMPORTANT:<strong> ahhh! I forgot to mention a couple things!

1) I'm using GoogleTranslate! D Deal with it! (though im sorry if what's written makes no sense) LOL, but I might get lazy and forget all the squiggly lines and special characters…

2) If there's anything I insulted/did wrong to your culture, let me know! T^T don't leave me to look like an idiot… (don't comment about anything American, though. xD cause I was born in the land of the free~)


	5. Chapter 4: Lavender Eyes

"So, what's your name?"

"They told me it was Utopia."

"Do you remember what day it is? Or what month?"

"No. Is it spring?"

"It's winter."

"Oh."

"In fact, I think it's almost your eighteenth birthday."

"…which is when?"

"Your birthday?"

"Yeah."

"It's on…January sixteenth. That's exactly one month from now."

"So I'm…younger than everyone else?"

"No, you're older."

"…my head hurts, so I can't really make sense of that."

Antonio wrote a couple notes on the clipboard in his hand. I was sitting up in my bed, hugging my pillow. He leaned forward on the chair he was straddling, the pen in his hand twirling the curls in his hair.

"Is there anything you do remember? Like, a teacher or a friend?"

I shook my head sadly. I told him, "The only things I remember are things I learned from school. At least, I'm assuming I learned these things from school."

"Huh." Antonio tapped the clipboard. "You don't remember anything about yourself? Or the people around you?"

Shrugging, I said, "Nope, nothing personal to me. But it's not scary, having no memory. I don't feel weird or anything like that." Then I sneezed loudly, and yawned.

"I guess you should get some rest, Utopia," Antonio said. He put the chair back and patted my head affectionately. "Don't worry. We'll get your memory back again."

"Wait," I said before he left. "How did I end up here, in the infirmary? Was I hurt?"

"Si, amigo. You fell down a flight of stairs and your head landed on the marble tiles. You were very hurt and asleep for a few days. The accident caused a lot of commotion with the students and teachers."

I frowned. Wow, was it that bad?

"So, I slipped and fell? Or did someone push me?"

He shrugged. "We think you slipped. Apparently you fell in the middle of the night. Ivan was the one who found you while taking another of his…nightly strolls."

It was like listening to someone else's accident. Nothing about this felt real or familiar to me.

"Get some sleep, amigo. I'll go check with Senor Rome and we'll see what we can do about your memory."

"'Kay. Thanks, Antonio."

"No problemo."

xXx

Later, in the middle of the night, I awoke to someone playing with my hair. Opening my eyes, I first saw a gloved hand. Then a pink scarf. And finally, lavender eyes.

"Ah, I'm sorry," Ivan whispered to me. "Did I wake you?"

"No," I murmured back, subtly clearing my throat and quieting my heart. "Why are you here? What time is it?"

"Ah," he said again. "So many questions."

I glanced at the clock, and then focused on his eyes again. "It's one in the morning. Why are you here?"

"To see you."

My heart fluttered involuntarily. He still played with my hair, twirling it slowly around his finger.

"Why would you want to see me?"

The hair-twirling stopped. Ivan pulled back his hand, but not his face, which was so close to mine the way he leaned on his chair. When he finally pulled back completely, I sat up in bed, hugging my pillow once more. It was very much like how Antonio was, hours ago, but completely different. These two moods weren't even comparable to each other.

"You really have lost your memory," he murmured. "You're different from before."

Well, duh. How am I supposed to know how I acted before?

"Well, I'm sorry," I said sarcastically, a little irked. "Wanna give me a reference book as to how I used to act?"

He giggled in such a way that I found disturbingly adorable. "Да, very different from before. The old Utopia used to be so nice."

"I can be nice," I huffed.

"Really? Prove it."

I took a long look at him. The boy had wide shoulders and a body hidden beneath a thick overcoat. In the darkness of the night, his blond-beige hair blended murkily with the walls. He had a strong, handsome face, yet still very childish indeed. Ivan was tall, even sitting down. His skin looked so soft for someone that hailed from the harsh winters of Russia. He had a dominant nose, bangs that brushed his eyes, and big, steady hands. Or were they more like hands used to being in control? And there was an air around him, like an aura—a haze hues darker than his eyes. It was meant to be scary, but I wasn't afraid. I was determined to be unfazed.

"Well, I really like your scarf. The pretty pink matches your eyes."

Ivan threw his head back and laughed, heartily and deep. It sent sudden goose bumps up my arms. The good kind or the bad kind, I couldn't quite tell.

Ivan laughed in his native tongue, but quickly reverted back to English. "It's the exact opposite of what you said to me when we first met! You told me that pink was a manly color!"

While he laughed to himself, I was confused. Why was that so funny?

"Hey, you can stop laughing now," I said. "It's not that funny—"

Abruptly, he stopped laughing. Ivan leered forward with all the weight of the world, his one ungloved hand gently stroking my cheek.

"You're nothing like her," he murmured. Breath like sweet candy tickled my nose. I tried to recoil, but was frozen in place. There was a scary gleam in his eyes despite the warm smile on his face.

"Are you bipolar?" I finally whispered.

Ivan blinked. Once. Twice. For the second time that night, he pulled away from me.

"Something like that," he said lightly in his childish voice, gazing at me. "But really, it's like you're an entirely different person, Utopia. What happened to you?"

Irritated—with him and his comparisons—I replied, "I think you've already established that I'm nothing like the old me. I think that's because of the memory loss. Anything else you'd like to point out?"

"No need to be cranky." Ivan stood from his chair, stretching his arms high. "I've gotten what I came here for."

I glared at him. "And what would that be?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he turned to the door and said, "Good night, little Utopia. Sweet dreams."

"You were the one that found me after I fell, weren't you?" I asked. My voice was laced with hidden accusation. Did he know something about how I fell? Or was he really walking around in the middle of the night? Was it just coincidence he happened to stumble upon my body?

He paused. Ivan turned, his eyes now an unidentifiable color in the darkness. But the smile was still there. The smile was always there. "Is that something you have remembered?"

"Antonio told me."

"Yes, I was the one who found you." His expression turned dreamy. "There was so much blood, Utopia. It was gleaming on the floor like broken wine…"

His eyes twinkled, and it freaked me out. The chill of his gaze seeped through the thin material of my clothes. I unconsciously squeezed the pillow closer.

"Sweet dreams, Utopia," Ivan said again. Giving me one last sweet smile he left. The door quietly clicked shut behind him.

Either he honestly didn't know anything, or was a very good actor.

Falling asleep in the earliest hours of the morning, I dreamt about broken wine bottles and lavender eyes.


	6. Chapter 5: Old Man Rome

Antonio came back in the afternoon with the Academy's girl uniform and an invitation to re-meet Headmaster Rome. I put the uniform on, graciously noting the decent length of my red plaid skirt. The white, long sleeved top was too long, so I rolled it up to my elbows.

Opening the infirmary door, I joined Antonio in the hall to walk through the school for the first time (at least, as far as my memories concerned). As we made our way to the Headmaster's office, I saw that there were no students in the halls. Antonio told me that it was a half an hour into 4th period.

The halls were full of spotless, plain marble flooring and perfect white walls, groups of full-body lockers here and there. This was the main building of World Academy, consisting of four floors and nearly eighty classrooms. The administration office (where we were headed to) and the infirmary were on the first floor, and the library connected to the main building on the first two floors. Every building on campus had air condition.

"Here we are, amigo," Antonio said cheerfully. We had arrived at an open office counter with a few people behind the desk. Some waved to him as we walked through the swinging employee door. Others glanced worriedly at me.

"Good morning!" greeted a woman in the narrow hall. She was wearing casual business attire and a headband to hold back her platinum blonde hair. I honestly couldn't decide what to do—smile at her soft, kind face or stare at her huge breasts.

"Buenos dias, Miss Ukraine," Antonio said.

_Miss?_ With those knockers, I'd figured she'd at least be married!

"And Utopia! How are you doing?" Ukraine looked concerned. "I hear you've lost your memory."

I shrugged, saying, "Yeah. It's not so bad, though. Nice to meet you…again."

She giggled. "I'm sure you'll be fine. Have a nice day, you two." With that, Antonio and I walked further down the hall.

"...is she a teacher?"

"No, Senorita Ukraine works in the office. She handles all the registration and financial details."

Another detail came to me. I jokingly said, "Ha, I must be pretty popular. Those people in the office looked pretty worried."

He stopped short, almost making me crash into him. At first I thought he was teasing, but I realized that we had arrived at _**Headmaster Rome**_'s door. Before he opened it, Antonio gave me a friendly grin. "Si, you were very popular with everybody, amigo. You could say you were the school's star student."

Surprised, I had nothing to say to that. He knocked and, without waiting for an answer, opened the door. I walked in without him and the door closed behind me.

"UTOPIA!" shouted the man sitting at the desk. Before I could get a good look at him, the guy leapt up from his chair and excitedly crossed the room in two seconds flat. Headmaster Rome pulled me into a great big hug, squishing my face into his broad chest.

His hands started going dangerously low. Not knowing what the hell to do, I just flailed my arms around until I finally just couldn't breathe. Crossing my fingers that my reputation would far succeed me, I brought my knee up and nailed him right where it hurt.

Rome sucked in a breath, immediately releasing me and crumpling to the ground. I gulped my oxygen back in.

"I guess I deserved that," he laughed (in pain). "So sorry, I couldn't help myself!"

"From molesting your students?" I said incredulously.

At that, Rome laughed louder. _"Il mio Dio!_ Everyone's been very worried about you! And here you are, acting like a completely different person! Come, sit on the chair over there. We have to talk."

I took a seat. Maybe this perverted guy wasn't so bad after all?

Headmaster Rome went straight down to business. "So Antonio and I talked for a bit yesterday about your condition, and we've made a plan for you. Want to hear it?"

"Noooo," I drawled sarcastically. He waved it off.

"Tomorrow is the start of a two week Winter break," he informed me. "We thought that you should have fun and relax with your friends, and we'll see if your memory comes back. Even if it doesn't, a few days from now we're taking you to the hospital to check your head."

"I take a fall to the head on _marble flooring_ and I'm going to the hospital nearly a week _after?"_ I asked skeptically.

He gave a guilty laugh. "Uh…well, about that—"

"Whatever."

"No, no. I should tell you. We called a doctor from the hospital and he examined your head. He said nothing was too damaged, but scheduled an appointment for this Sunday just to check. We would've gotten an earlier day, but injuries in the Academy aren't much of a surprise so they consider other patients first."

"We have a lot of fights?"

He hesitated, but nodded. "A lot of them end up really nasty. But that's off topic! Don't give me that look, no one's gotten killed or anything like that."

"Like that's supposed to make me feel better?" I scoffed.

He gave me a long look. "You're usually not this sarcastic."

"Can you blame me?"

He reached across the desk and ruffled my hair. "Nah, you're too cute."

Glaring at him, I slapped his hand away and changed the subject. "So, I'm getting a re-tour of this school, right?"

"Yes," he said. "Actually, I just called for a student to show you around. She'll show you your dorm room and everything. Any questions before you go?"

"Yeah, just one. Are you related to Feliciano?" There were countless pictures of him and his brother(? the other boy in the pictures looked very much like Feliciano) on the desk.

"Yep," he popped the 'p'. "He's my grandson."

"Grandson? There's no way you're that old!"

He wiggled his eyebrows and flexed his muscles for me. "I know, I'm _so_ sexy for a grandpa."

I laughed. "You know, at first, I thought you were a perverted, happy-go-lucky lecherous guy. But now you're just an old man who still tries to look hip and sexy."

Rome deflated somewhat. "What did you just say?"

I hopped up from my chair and skipped to the door, saying, "Nothing. I'll wait outside for my tour guide. Thanks, old man!"

"Old man?" I heard nothing after that because I had already closed the door.

xXx

Letting out a sigh, I exited the office (waving good-bye to adults I didn't recognize) and came out into the cool hallway. I leaned against the cold wall to wait for my tour guide, and wondered when 4th period was supposed to end.

_**RIIIIING!**_

Ah, I guess I got my answer.

The hall was suddenly alive with students running, walking, talking, skipping, racing, strolling. Boys were in royal blue blazers, blue sweaters, tan or white cotton vests with white collared shirts underneath, dark ties, and dark plaid dress pants. Girls wore outfits like mine (white collared shirt, red tie, white sweater, red plaid skirt, long socks) or red plaid dresses. Everyone wore shoes, no slippers in sight.

I vaguely heard pounding feet running down the hall.

"BLOODY HELL, ALFRED, WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!"

"SORRY IGGY!" shouted a voice. The crowd parted, and I recognized the figure flying straight for me. It was the American boy!

"Alfre—" was all I got to say before he skidded to a stop and lifted me straight into his arms—no warning. I was frozen in shock, being carried like a big baby. "Dude! What the hell?"

"Eat lunch with us!" he shouted excitedly. Then we took off flying down the hall, my body like a feather in his arms. Afraid of making him eat the ground if I struggled (it was tempting, believe me), I did nothing but prayed he wouldn't trip and make us both fall on our faces.

Day one of World Academy Boarding School. This was only the beginning.


	7. Chapter 6: Enter Everyone!

"You stay here, 'kay? I'll go get us some lunch. You still like Pepsi, right?"

Alfred was already moving away, so I had to catch his sleeve to stop him. "Can you get me a Coke?"

He threw me a grin. "Sure! I'll be right back." And so the American excitedly rushed past students down the stairs to the cafeteria.

I finally got a moment to take a look around. I was sitting in a wooden chair in front of an empty table in the middle of the room, where other kids were talking and eating together. The purpose of this 2nd floor was completely for eating and dining purposes, chocked full of tables and chairs like an open restaurant. The floor extended to an open balcony with a beautiful view of the campus trees swaying in the gentle breeze. Downstairs was a kitchen that served a cultural mix of food and a few tables to eat on. All was tidy and clean. The interior design was quite classy, too, couches and coffee tables in one corner complete with a big screen TV.

"_Konnichiwa_, Utopia-san," greeted a voice. It was the Asian kid from the infirmary. "May I sit here?"

It was a pretty big table.

"Sure!" I scooted my chair over a little so he could take the seat next to me. "I'm sorry, but what was your name again?"

"Kiku Honda," he said, graciously sitting down. Kiku looked around. "Are you alone?"

"No, Alfred's downstairs."

"Ah, I see." As he took out his personal pair of chopsticks, he glanced at something by the stairs. "It looks like Alfred-san came back."

"That was fast," I said. But when I looked at the stairs, it wasn't Alfred I saw, but someone else. "Hey, Matthew! Come sit with us!"

Matthew looked very surprised, as if no one really talked to him much, but saw who was calling him and walked over, smiling.

"How are you, Utopia?" he asked.

"Fine," I replied. "Thanks for asking. Wait, are those…pancakes? For lunch?"

Matthew blushed a little. "I love pancakes."

"Non, _Mathieu_," came a suave voice. "It's the maple syrup you love so much."

Someone came up from behind me and put their hands on my shoulders, kissing my hair. I groaned. What's with all these people and _touching me?_

Before Kiku could politely step in, I growled, "Get off of me."

A chuckle sounded, but he obliged nonetheless. "Someone's gotten a personality check."

I twisted around, saying, "And what's that's supposed to mean?"

The guy standing there looked like a model. A _French_ model; one with silky blonde hair and sexy stubble along the edge of his jaw. His eyes, while not striking blue like Alfred's, were alive with delight.

The boy lifted his chin a little. "It's just that I always knew you had at least some kind of fiery spirit in you, mon cheri. You just chose to never show it."

I stared at this weirdo for a moment, and then turned to Kiku. "Who is this guy?"

French model clucked his tongue, and I saw him eye my hand. Suddenly, I drew it back for fear he would take it and plant a kiss.

"Utopia-san, this is Francis-kun. He is from France."

"Figures," I muttered under my breath. Francis didn't seem to hear me as he pulled up a chair and squeezed in between Kiku and me.

From the stairs came Arthur—caterpillar eyebrows are very iconic —with two plates of food. He spotted our table and walked over. Was it my imagination, or was he glaring at Francis?

"Here's your bloody food, wanker," Arthur snapped to the French boy. He let one of the plates clatter on the table and started to eat the sandwich on his own.

Francis smirked, sliding the food to him. "You shouldn't be so sour, Arthur, just because you lost a bet."

Arthur's face flamed red and his glare turned murderous. "Sh-Shut up."

I got curious. "What bet?"

England's face turned even more red while Francis laughed gleefully.

"Oui, Arthur, tell her, tell her! That'll be rich!"

Fortunately for Arthur, he didn't have to at the moment, for a dark shadow strolled from the stairs and, spotting our table, headed straight for us.

"Ah," Ivan said, his smile bright and happy. "It looks like everyone is having fun! I shall join you, da?"

I think I was the only one who smiled back at him as he took the nearest seat, right next to Arthur.

"Hi, Ivan," I said, out of courtesy at least. "What're you eating?"

"Borscht," he answered happily, picking up his spoon and stirring the deep red soup. "It is perfect for a cold winter afternoon."

"Cool."

"Heyo, Utopia! I'm back!" called Alfred, appearing from the stairs with a tray in his hand. He stopped for a second, seeing the crowd that had spontaneously appeared around me, and said, "Wow. Where'd all these people come from?"

I had no answer to that, so I stood and reached out to take the meal he offered. "Hamburger?"

He grinned. I caught Arthur rolling his eyes.

"Of course," they both said, but in two very different tones.

"No need to be sarcastic," I scolded Arthur. "Hamburgers are fine." I took a big bite, realizing just how hungry I really was.

"Just don't be a pig like Alfred, yes?" Ivan hummed. The Russian was very much enjoying his borscht.

Alfred scoffed. "Look who's talking, fatso."

I swear the temperature dropped. The lunchroom got quiet. Looking around, I saw that our surrounding peers were tense, stealing glances at us and whispering things to each other. I made eye contact with a girl across the way and she immediately looked away.

I leaned into Matthew. "Hey, why is everyone else so quiet?"

He gave me an apologetic look and was about to answer me, but was interrupted by yet another person that joined our table. It was Yao, the Chinese boy.

"Aiyaa," he said. "Everyone's sitting together! Has something happened, aru?"

"Not everyone," Kiku commented. "Ludwig-san and Feliciano-kun are not here."

I was confused. What was wrong with everyone sitting together? Was that bad? The lunchroom chill got colder, if that was even possible. Kiku looked flustered, like he wanted to ease the tension, but was afraid he'd make it worse. No one said anything.

"Are you guys in some kinda fight?" I blurted. The silence was unbearable. "Because if you are, could you, I dunno, leave? I'd like to eat this hamburger in peace without getting a headache from all your bickering."

I earned a few surprised looks from them.

"It's like she died and came back with an opinion," Francis said, grinning.

"Da. Utopia is very different from before."

There they were again—the _comparisons_.

Before I could argue on this, a loud yelp of protest sounded downstairs. Suddenly, there was a clash, as well as shouting.

"UTOPIA!" yelled a girl's voice.

A girl appeared in the stairs, eyes burning with anger, long brown hair bristling at their edges. Clenched hair in her hand was a frying pan. Huh, how odd.

I felt the whole table freeze up (except for Ivan, who giggled to himself and took another sip from his soup).

"Yes?" I said to her.

Her eyes flickered around before settling on mine. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"I finally found you!" The girl marched straight for me. "Do you know how long I've been looking for you? And why are you all staring at me?" she snapped to bystanders. "Mind your own business." They promptly turned around.

A thought occurred to me. "Oh, are you the girl that's supposed to show me around school?"

She huffed in annoyance. "Yes, but I couldn't find you anywhere!" Her eyes trained on the group of seven sitting around me, eyes sharpening dangerously. "Which one of you dragged her here?"

No one answered for fear of her wrath. I quickly caught on to the nervous mood. Alfred looked cool and calm, though it was just an act.

"Actually, I kinda just wandered here," I lied, standing up. Crumpling up my hamburger wrapper, I tossed it in a nearby bin. "Alfred found me and offered to buy me lunch."

The girl pursed her lips, but pursued my kidnapper no further.

"We should get going. I don't really care if I miss fifth period, but I have a presentation in sixth. And lunch is almost over!" She hooked her arm in mine. "My name is Elizaveta Héderváry."

"Cool, my name is Utopia. Can I call you Eliza?"

"That's fine."

As we descended the stairs, I looked back at the lunch table. Alfred mouthed a very grateful 'thank you' to me. I smiled and waved back.

What I didn't know was that the other six pairs of eyes noticed this exchange, and two pairs actually narrowed—one chilling lavender and the other piercing green.


	8. Chapter 7: Different

-3rd POV-

Utopia thought Eliza was very fun to talk to. They spent the majority of lunch walking along paved paths around the school, Eliza pointing out buildings here and there. It was a pretty standard boarding school set up—the main building with all academic classrooms, a huge dorm building, library, cafeteria, gym and pool combination, and auditorium/stage/music class building. When she mentioned how the library had two floors, Utopia perked up and asked if they could go there. Eliza, who was happy to delay going to 5th period, obliged.

Utopia set her eyes on the large establishment and gaped openly.

"These steps!" she exclaimed. "They're gorgeous!"

Indeed they were; every single marble slab that led to the main entrance of the school library was smooth and sprinkled with light snow. Utopia thought she was walking up the steps to a museum! The winter sun hit the while marble so perfectly that everything was glowing in the hazy atmosphere. Elizaveta watched in both amusement and wonder as the other girl bounded up the stairs, her hair flying free in the wind and eyes sparkling in joy.

She looks free, Eliza thought to herself. Why wasn't she like this before? Is this her true personality?

"Hey, Eliza," Utopia called from the top. "You coming or what?"

The Hungarian suddenly realized that she was still standing at the base of the steps. Still thinking of how Utopia changed, she climbed the steps quickly, liking this new Utopia more and more.

Utopia, who was more attentive than she looked at the moment, noticed how Eliza's expression was so much more comfortable than before, when she looked a little awkward walking around together.

Eliza did the honors and opened the wooden door, breezes of air condition spilling out from the library, making both girls' hair flutter like wispy ghosts.

The library looked even bigger on the inside than on the outside. Shelves were literally everywhere—standing tall in neat rows, hugging the walls tall and wide, and bulging with hundreds of thousands of books like a hoard of treasures just waiting to be opened.

"I love it," the dazzled Utopia breathed.

"Hey, Utopia," whispered Eliza. She grinned mischievously. "I see Ludwig and Felice! Let's sneak up on them."

"Okay," Utopia said excitedly back, just barely remembering the faces attached to their names.

Sure enough, sitting at one of the desks along the back walls was a frustrated German and a teary-eyed Italian. The two girls hid behind their backs, listening to their conversation.

"I'm so sorry, Ludwig! I just don't understand this!"

Ludwig sighed heavily. Why was teaching an Italian math so damn hard? Mein Gott…

"Look, this equation corresponds to this equation; therefore you can use Theorem 6 to prove that the two shapes are congruent. You should've learned this years ago, Feliciano."

"Ve," sobbed Feliciano. "But I was too busy trying to catch up in Science that year…"

"That's no excuse," the German scolded. "There's no—"

"EEP!" shrieked Feliciano, when two hands suddenly hindered his sight. He immediately flailed his arms around. "EVERYTHING IS SO DARK! PLEAE DON'T HURT ME! I'LL DO ANYTHING! LUDWIG! LUDWIG! HEEELLLP!"

Ludwig himself was blinded by a hand that covered his eyes and held to the chair by a strong arm around his waist.

"Guess who?" chirped a cheery voice.

He frowned. The voice was female and sounded familiar, but he couldn't think of its owner.

"I give up," he said, and then realizing that the Italian next to him was quiet. Feliciano's perpetrator must have revealed them self already.

"Aww," whined the voice in his ear, breath tickling his neck. "But that's cheating, Ludwig."

Another girl laughed, "Let go of him. He'll be shocked to see who it is."

The hands that covered his eyes and held his waist let go, her hands finding refuge on the edge of his chair. Ludwig looked up into a pretty face, blinked, and finally realized who it was.

"Utopia?" he said in surprise.

The girl smiled. "Yeah?"

Ludwig thought, '_I can barely recognize her'._ Utopia used to look so calm and serene—intelligent and diplomatic. She used to be somewhat emotionless, but it was always a positive emotionless. She never got over excited nor did she ever get angry.

But the Utopia standing above him gave off a whole new aura. He couldn't really tell in the infirmary room, but now it was clear that Utopia had changed. If it wasn't the spark in her eye that gave it away, it was the smile. Sunshine bright and happy—an emotion the old Utopia never really showed.

Watching Ludwig gaze at Utopia, Elizaveta snickered to herself and Italy 've'-d obliviously.

Ludwig realized that he was staring, and quickly turned to the smirking Hungarian.

"What are you two doing here?" he asked, a little harsher than he'd intended.

Still smirking, Eliza answered, "I'm showing Utopia around the school, and she wanted to come to the library. Is there a problem?"

"No," he replied. "But you are disrupting my tutor session."

Eliza stuck her tongue out in jest while Utopia laughed a little.

"Sorry for bothering you, Ludwig," she said, deciding that the German and Italian were both very likable people. "Did you two have lunch already?"

Felice perked up. "Si! We ate in our secret corner on the second floor, so the mean librarian lady couldn't catch us!"

Ludwig sighed, nearly face-palming.

"You're not supposed to say it out loud," he growled.

All of a sudden, the bell ran throughout the school, signaling the end of lunch.

"I haven't finished my math homework yet!" cried Felice.

"You'll have class time to do it," informed Eliza, having been to math already.

"Really? Ve, thank you! Ciao, Eliza! Ciao, Utopia!" he called out, rushing to his next class. Ludwig, too, rushed after him. He offered just a nod in good bye.

Eliza turned to her companion.

"Would you like to see your dorm room now?"

Utopia's heart skipped a beat. What would her room look like? Would she be able to recognize something in it? Will her memories come back when she walked into the room she'd been living alone in for years?

"Let's go!"

When they were outside, a question popped up in Utopia's head.

"Hey, Eliza? What was I like before I lost my memories?"

Eliza paused in her descent down the marble stairs, a look of contemplation on her face. How could she explain the odd personality of former Utopia in simple terms? Ah yes, there was but one way to describe her.

"You used to be perfect."

"How so?" Utopia was curious. How had she changed? Was it for better, or for worse?

Eliza shrugged. "Everyone either loved you or admired you because you were just so perfect. You always got the best grades, you were the best athlete, had the best attitude, were friendly to everyone, and you definitely looked the most beautiful." She threw an apologetic smile. "You're still the prettiest now, by the way."

Somewhat flattered but uninterested, Utopia insisted on more details. Eliza complied.

"You're a member of nearly all the clubs at this academy and take the first chair in concert band programs and chorus. I'm pretty sure you had most of the guys drooling in their sleep, but you were always so…indifferent to everything. Like you enjoyed being here, but weren't concerned in interacting with any one of us. I thought that as your only flaw; that you were everyone's friend, yet never got too deep. Like you were trying to keep your distance."

"That's…kind of depressing," Utopia admitted truthfully.

"It was," complained Eliza. "Your reputation was so intimidating, I never hung out with you. Hey, can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I like you better now than before. You're easier to talk to. More open."

Utopia grinned. "Is that supposed to be a compliment to me right now, or your way of telling me I used to be a stuck up, stuffy popular girl?"

She winked. "I'll let you guess which one it is. Oh, we're here."

xXx

Inside the dorm building were four levels, the bottom two for boys and the top two for girls. Instead of walking up three stories worth of stairs, Eliza and Utopia took one of the two elevators in the end of the main lounge/hall up to the fourth floor, where Utopia's dorm room resided at the end of the farthest hallway.

As they passed doors embellished with name signs and decorations, Eliza was nearly as excited as Utopia was to see her room. No one had ever gone into the perfect girl's room before.

The two finally stopped at a plain white door.

"Hey, wait," said Utopia, looking to the side. "What does that door lead to?"

-1st POV- (muahaha, random pov change!)

I pointed to a heavy looking door on the dead end of the hall, adjacent to my room.

"That leads to the rooftop. But no one really goes there, since it's so far away from the entrance."

"Cool," I said, turning back to the locked door. "Can I open it?"

Eliza pulled out a silver key from her pocket. "You have the honors."

The key made a muted clicking sound. I gripped the handle, and opened the door in a flash, like suddenly ripping the wrapper off a birthday present. Both of us leaned into the room…

…and pulled back, confused. I was extremely disappointed.

The room was empty. Blank, empty walls; one simple bed with plain sheets and a single unused pillow; one big window covered by a curtain; a small desk; and a stand next to the bed with a standard lamp plugged into the wall. On one side was a closet, and on the other was a door leading to the private bathroom that Eliza informed me every dorm room had.

_**It was so…fucking PLAIN. **_

My skin itched at the sight of this colorless…_abomination!_ I couldn't STAND these blank walls! I assumed that I magically inherited a trait unfamiliar to the previous-me:

Freaking creativity.

"Wow, your room is probably the biggest room in the building. But…I'm sort of…" hesitated Eliza.

"Disappointed?" I offered. "A bit dead inside? Enraged at this lack of soul?"

She laughed a little. "Yeah, kinda."

"Well, I am too," I huffed. "I'm allowed to decorate this room as much as I want, right?"

"Sure. My room has tons of posters and pictures on the walls, and I switched out all of the default furniture for a different bed, dressers, a big desk—lots of stuff. You have free reign over your own room, don't worry."

My eyes hardened determinedly. "Where can I buy paints and paintbrushes?"

Her eyes widened. "You're going to paint?"

"I'll go insane if I sleep in this boring ass place."

I could tell she was hiding a smile. "If you're going to go that far, I'm pretty sure Miss Ukraine will let you have a few cans and brushes. Poor Miss Ukraine, one day the art club disbanded and dumped everything on her. She's such a pushover."

"Perfect. I'll go ask her tomorrow, then."

"Do you need help with painting?"

"Nah, I'd rather do it myself." Smiling sheepishly, I said, "But could you stick with me if I have to tour the school again?"

"Absolutely. I'd love to."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it."

Eliza flashed me a smile, and then walked over to the bed at the other corner of the (rather BIG) room. She pulled out something I hadn't noticed. A black and white school bag.

"This is your bag. I'm guessing the rest of your textbooks are in the desk." She pulled out random things, like composition books, a cute pencil case and a wallet. "But this is what's important."

Out from the bag came a sleek, black laptop.

"Everyone is assigned a laptop by the school. Try log on to your user."

Sitting on the small desk chair, I opened the laptop and it flashed to a _'Welcome'_ screen. A default icon and the username, _'Utopia,'_ were waiting for me to type in my password.

My fingers came up with nothing.

"I don't remember my password," I finally said.

"Are you sure?" After my nod of confirmation, Eliza cursed. "I guess you gotta request for a new laptop, then."

"I wish I could see what was on my computer," I sighed.

"You can still keep the laptop, 'cause I'm pretty sure you paid the extra money to keep it as your own laptop. Because of that, you can just ask for a new one and they'd give you another. Unless you don't want to keep this old one."

I shook my head vigorously. "No, I want to keep this. Maybe I'll remember my password!"

She shrugged. "Okay, that works." Suddenly glancing at her watch, Eliza paled. "SHIT! It's almost 6th period! I'm so sorry, Utopia, but I have to go do my presentation for class!

Shutting the laptop and shaking my head, I said, "No, it's totally fine. Get out of here and kill that presentation, Eliza!"

At the door, she turned back for a second.

"You can just chill for the rest of the day. I'll come pick you up at around six or seven for dinner, 'kay?"

"Thanks! I'll see you then!" One last, reassuring smile, she rushed out the door.

Flopping down onto the bed, I breathed in the scent of the cool sheets. They smelled like flowers. I inspected the bathroom (one shower, big sink), checked the desk compartments (text books, extra packs of paper, pencils, etc), and the side pockets of my bag. Nothing out of the ordinary. Or special. But I did find one interesting item.

An iTouch. No pass code was set up, so I unlocked it straightaway. Finding a list of songs, I gaped. Did I buy the whole iTunes store, or what? I looked at the 'About' information to discover that there was a monstrous quantity of tracks.

**8,908 songs. WHAT?**

Another shocking thing was that the iPod also said there was limitless space, where _normal_ ones said things like 8GB or 36GB.

Deciding that waiting inside was boring, I took my room key and exited the dorm, opening the door to the roof top. Immediately, I was chilled to the bone with violent gusts of winter wind and estatic snow. A few minutes later, I was back and properly equipped with heavy jeans, boots, a scarf, warm sweater, and a thick winter jacket that I found in my closet. One gloved hand scrolled through a playlist I randomly put together. Music filled my mind as I walked out onto the roof.

My boots made funny crunching sounds whenever I stepped on heaps of snow. I saw a tall platform on the roof that might as well have been a floor all by itself. Climbing a ladder to the raised platform, I stood tall and free in the storm of wind and snow. I could see the whole school from here.

It was something truly magical.

xXx

Slowly, the storm thinned out to a gentle sprinkle of snow. Time disappeared in this winter fantasy. Music blocked me from the world. The sky turned darker and darker until I could actually see a moon. Somewhere along the line, I fell asleep on the platform above the roof, curled up nice and warm like a cocoon.

"Utopia," sang a voice. "You'll catch a cold if you stay up here, da?" Lucky for him, the music had already reached its end and it was quiet enough for me to hear his voice.

I sleepily opened my eyes to see Ivan leaning over me, sweet smile on his face and his scarf a little damp from snowfall.

Despite his own warning, he took a seat next to me, hanging his legs off the edge of the platform.

"It's nice up here, yes?"

Cheerily smiling, I said, "Yup. Did you need something?"

"Da," he replied. "The Elizaveta girl is storming the building looking for you. She is waving her frying pan around like an angry woman."

Was I up here that long? "Shoot, I'm sor—"

"It's getting very annoying because I wanted to take a nice nap before going to get dinner, but I could not sleep with an angry woman stomping up and down the halls, screaming your name."

There was an unmistakable undertone of malice in his words, matched perfectly with the dark smile on his face. Still, I was unafraid, here on this roof, nearly 5 stories above the ground.

"I'll go then—"

"We should!" he chimed. Leaping off the edge, he landed on the roof tiles loudly. I looked over the side to see him giving me a warm smile, violet eyes twinkling and arms out as if to catch me.

"Jump, Utopia!" he called.

"You're crazy!" I laughed. "I'll take the ladder, thank you very much."

However, as I was climbing down the ladder, a hand reached up and yanked me away from the rigs. Ivan caught me in his big, strong arms bridal-style, the smile still on his face.

"I caught you anyway," he chuckled.

I blushed a bit, but covered it up by saying, "Okay," and made a move to jump down, but his arms tightened.

"You will be sure to keep Elizaveta from screaming your name in the halls next time, da?" he asked threateningly. The air was suddenly colder.

"Yes sir," I replied, just as cheerful, and added a salute.

"Good girl." He put me down. "Eat with me."

Hand on the door that led inside, I said, "Sure." And we went inside for dinner.


	9. Chapter 8: No More Cleaning, Please!

Dinner in the dining room was just like lunch, but with less people. Ivan explained that some people took their dinners with them to the dorm lounge or their rooms. In this visit, I got to sand in line and fawn over all the kinds of dishes listed on the menu. Dishes from every country and culture imaginable made a diverse selection of meals. Ivan took a plate of piping hot pirozhki. I requested a simple ham sandwich and a bottle of water. We sat upstairs on the balcony where the dark evening sky and cold air both gave off a winter vibe.

"Is that…vodka?" I asked when Ivan took out a bottle of clear liquid.

"Da," he replied, uncapping it and taking a long swig. He closed his eyes in bliss, savoring the fire that ran down his throat.

I stared. "Is that even allowed?"

"Da, as long as no one gets too drunk."

"…and they expect teenagers to refrain from getting _too drunk?_"

He looked at me seriously. "Vodka is Russian water, Utopia. I do not get drunk on vodka."

I stared at him thoughtfully as he ate his pirozhki. Others around us eyed the Russian boy warily. I would have to keep an eye on him.

"Have you remembered anything yet?" he suddenly asked.

"Nope. Hey, I got to see my dorm room."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but it was pretty boring. All the walls were blank and there was no sense of personalization at all. So I'm going to ask Miss Ukraine if I can use the paints she has to paint my walls."

Ivan looked up. "You're going to ask my sister?"

"Your…she's your sister? Wow, I didn't expect that."

He chuckled to himself. "No one does."

"HEY GUYS!" exclaimed Alfred, coming out of nowhere. **[a/n: lol, Hamburger Street?]** "Mind if I sit here?"

"Yes," Ivan answered, the same time I replied, "No."

Despite the dark look my Russian companion threw at him, Alfred brought up a chair and started stuffing his mouth with hamburgers and fries and shakes and—

"Hey, Al?" I said.

"Hmm?"

"Eat a little less obnoxiously, please."

With much difficulty, he swallowed everything and gasped. "Sorry, I'm just hungry. You're so lucky you didn't go to Math today. We took our final exam, 'cause vacation starts tomorrow, and it was soooo hard! There was this one problem at the end that was, like, something we learned at the beginning of the year! And Kiku and Arthur wouldn't tell me the answers! Those meanies," he pouted. "And then in PE, we played dodge ball! I was all like, BAM! And Arthur actually got someone out! But then Feliciano got beamed in the face and Ludwig went all batshit crazy and—"

"Shut your mouth for once, you bloody American," said a voice. "I swear, you never stop talking."

As Arthur took a seat next to me, Alfred retorted, "At least I'm more pleasant to listen to then you, Iggy."

"Stop calling me that already!" Arthur said, exasperated.

Alfred pretended to think about it. "Mmmm…nope!"

"You two are very annoying," chimed Ivan.

As they argued (they argued a lot, I noted), I took this chance to see if I could recognize anyone from this afternoon. There was Yao and Kiku sitting with a few other Asians, Francis talking with some girls near the teacher's table, and Eliza (whom I had already apologized to) sitting with a high-strung looking teacher wearing glasses and a hyped up boy with grey-ish silver hair and animate movements as he described something. I tried to look for Matthew, but he didn't seem to be here.

At least, that was what I thought before I heard a faint cry for help in front of me.

"Ivan!" I shouted suddenly, jumping out of my chair and moving around the table to him. "You're sitting on Matthew!"

"Huh?"

I pulled Ivan out of his chair in a desperate attempt to save the suffocating Canadian. Underneath, I found the poor blonde, nearly crushed to death. Matthew gasped for air, red in the face.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

"Y-Yeah," he meekly responded. He fixed the glasses on his face. "Thank you, Utopia."

"Whoa, Mattie!" said Alfred. "When did you get here?"

"I was here this whole time…"

I frowned at Alfred and Arthur (who was casually sipping his tea). "Have you guys always been so insensitive?"

"Aren't you the insensitive one, Utopia, for making me move from my chair?" Ivan countered, dusting off imaginary dust from his coat.

"You sat on Mattie, so you're more insensitive than me."

"I-I'm fine now, so please don't—"

"AH!" Alfred breathed out satisfyingly. "I'm so FULL!"

"Good God, I hope you are. Anymore and you'll explode."

A mental image of Alfred exploding burgers and shakes like a piñata had me laughing. Apparently Ivan had the same fantasy too, because started chuckling as well (though, I think he was enjoying it a little more than necessary).

Throwing an arm around my shoulder, Alfred said happily, "Man, I'm glad you're back. It was way too depressing without you."

"Thanks, Al," I said earnestly, bringing up both arms to hug him back. "Even though I don't remember anything, I think it's safe to say that I'm glad to _be_ back."

All of a sudden, someone wrenched me out of the hug, pulling me into their arms and kicking Alfred back into his chair. Despite his flailing efforts to stay upright, Alfred's chair tipped over, bringing the American down with it. Ivan tightened his merciless grip on me.

"Mine," he snarled.

Alfred glared at him, all traces of smiling gone. "She doesn't belong to you," he argued back.

"Let go, Ivan," I said firmly. After a moment of defiance, he did. Alfred took my outstretched hand and I helped to pull him up from the ground.

"Here we go again," Arthur muttered, staring pointedly at his tea. He was biting his lip as if holding something back.

"What are you talking about?"

Arthur looked away. "It's nothing."

"Communist bastard."

"You forget, stupid American. My country is capitalist."

"Does it matter? You're still an evil bitch at heart."

At this, my eyes narrowed. "Stop it Alfred!" I demanded, borderline furious. "That's taking it way too far." The two feuding forces ignored me, continuing to throw insults back and forth. Ivan's hands were clenching dangerously tight.

I felt more than a little stood-up. Did these guys hate each other so much?

The sound of me crumpling up my sandwich wrapper cut through the air. Finally, Alfred, Ivan, and Arthur looked up at me. Even the surrounding students (whom I knew were acutely aware of our group) stole a glance at us.

Paying them no attention, I said, "Thank you for the meal," before curtly leaving the table, tossing my rubbish into a trash bin.

"Wait!" called Alfred. "Where are you going, Utopia?"

Instead of answering, I marched down the stairs, ignoring Alfred's efforts to call me back. Back to that pointless arguing? Nu-uh, I don't think so.

Out on the snowy path, walking to the dorms, I heard their voices up on the balcony.

"Great, she's going back to her room. It's all your fault," accused Alfred's faraway voice.

Ivan scoffed. "Really? We were doing just fine before you came."

"Well…she hugged me!"

"She likes me better."

"Does not!"

I groaned at their never ending argument, wondering what I had forgotten about their unhealthy relationship. It seemed like they were both interesting people to be around, but together, it was just annoying. My mind travelled back to when Alfred told me he was glad I was back, our brief hug, and the sudden territorial declaration of Ivan that I was his.

Why did that make me feel so pleasant?

"Ah, it's Utopia!" came a familiar voice. "Utopia! Utopia! Did you eat yet?"

Something inside brightened a little to see Felice running towards me on the path.

"Hi, Felice," I said happily. "And I did, thanks. Did you?"

"Mmm-hmm. I cooked pasta in Antonio's room and we ate with Ludwig and Romano!"

Who was Romano? "That's great. Hey, where are you going?"

Falling in step with me, walking in the direction he had come from, he told me, "Nowhere. I just saw you and you looked a little lonely. Are you okay?"

I waved this off. "I'm fine. Oh, is that…your brother?" A boy that looked just like Felice was sprinting towards us.

He looked at me, amazed. "Wow, how'd you know I had a brother?"

"Mr. Rome told me."

"Grandpa Rome did?"

"Oi!" said Felice's brother. Even under the dim pathway lamp, I could see the obvious differences in each twin. Felice's hair was lighter, and his brother's eyes were green instead of light brown. Feliciano had a bright smile on his face while his twin looked like he wore a permanent scowl.

"Hi," I said when he joined us.

He looked taken aback when I talked to him, surprised that I was even here. "Oh, you're…Utopia."

"Yup. And you are?"

"Romano," he said grumpily, the same time his brother said, "Lovino!"

"That's _not_ my name!" Romano/Lovino shouted.

Felice pouted. "But your real name is Lovino…"

"Chigi!" Romano/Lovino muttered under his breath. "You know I don't like that name."

I couldn't help but smile at their exchange. "So…do I call you Romano or Lovino?"

"Romano!"

"Okay. Nice to meet you, Romano."

"Hn," he grunted. Romano turned back to his brother. "Hey, you have to get back to Antonio's room. Ludwig's going crazy with cleaning again. Antonio can't stop him."

Felice whined, "But I just started talking to Utopia!"

"Bring her with you, then! Just hurry up—the potato bastard was heading for Antonio's closet when I left."

At this, Felice looked horrified. "No!" He grabbed my hand and started running. "We have to hurry! Come on, Utopia!"

"O-Okay."

xXx

"N-No! Ludwig, stay in the kitchen! My closet is off limits!"

"You're probably defending it because it's cluttered with crap. Let…me…through!"

CRASH!

"No! My closet!"

"Dammit, Antonio! You're completely disorganized."

"LUUUUDWIIIIG!" Felice yelled, bursting through the front door of Antonio's dorm room. "YOU HAVE TO STOP CLEANING OR ELSE GRANDPA ROME IS GONNA SUSPEND YOU FROM CLASSES AGAIN AND YOU'RE GOING TO GET DETENTION AND MISS CLASS AND HAVE A WHOLE BUNCH OF HOMEWORK MISSING!"

Romano and I finally caught up to Felice (damn, he was fast) just as he reached Antonio's room. Looking in, I could see Antonio pushed on the side looking a little agitated and Ludwig—eyes mad—frozen at the closet door.

"Feliciano?" Ludwig said in surprise. His arms lowered a little.

"Yeah, it's me," Felice said gently. "You can put the duster down now…you don't have to clean anymore. Just relax…come here, Ludwig. Away from the closet…"

Despite Felice's gentle coaxing, Ludwig shook his head and continued to eye the closet warily, thinking of multiple ways to stack Antonio's gardening magazines.

"No," he muttered. "I have to clean this—"

"Ludwig," I interrupted. "Stop, Antonio doesn't want you to clean his room."

He whipped his head up. "Utopia?" he said confusedly, like a child. "Why are you here? Weren't you in the infirmary?"

"What? No, I got out this morning. We talked at lunch in the library, remember?"

He furrowed his brow. "No. You're supposed to be in the infirmary."

I stared at him for a moment. Did he really not remember? I mean, how could he forget something that happened just a few hours ago? I could've sworn he was saner than that.

Heading towards the now crouching German, I snapped my fingers repeatedly. "Hey, snap out of it Ludwig. Are you okay? Here, give me the duster. Come on…"

Slowly, but surely, his fingers around the duster loosened and I was able to pull it out of his hands. After blinking multiple times, he finally spoke. It was as if he was walking from a trance. "Oh…U-topia… When did you get here?"

I stopped my mouth mid-frown. "Just now. Are you tired?"

"Y-Yeah…I'm a little…ugh," he groaned.

I helped to heave him up from the ground. From there, he stood stiffly on his own, straightening his messed school uniform.

"Sorry," he said, sounding embarrassed. "Um, thank you. For stopping me. I—"

"Had a little too many beers, potato bastard?" interjected Romano.

"Yeah," Antonio chuckled. "Remind me to keep an eye on how many bottles you have next time."

Plainly red in the face, Ludwig did his best to stay dignified. "It's getting late. I'm going back to the room. Sorry for the trouble."

Despite his unforgiving posture, Ludwig was still drunk. I caught his arm just before he fell, holding him steady. Suddenly I understood. His odd behavior was because he drank too much.

"Do you two share a dorm?" I asked Felice. He nodded. "Okay, can you grab his bag? Let's take him to his room."

Antonio leaped forward to help. "He's heavy, let me take him."

I refused. "No, I can carry him; he's not that heavy. You should really fix your room. Besides, Romano will help me carry Ludwig, right?"

"Pfft, no—"

_"Right?"_

"…fine." The grumpy Italian swung one of Ludwig's arms on his shoulder. "Dammit! You're fucking heavy, you know?"

Unable to do anything else, our half-conscious German friend merely grunted in return. Felice took his bag from the small kitchen counter, and the three of us set off to bring poor Ludwig back to bed.

xXx

I got to see the inside of Ludwig's and Felice's dorm room. It was spotlessly clean, the three desks perfectly organized and no sign of clutter on the ground. I was surprised to find not two, but three sets of beds in separate corners, each with different colored sheets and posters/decorations on the wall. I saw a German flag beside one bed and immediately knew it was Ludwig's. Romano and I struggled to get him up on his mattress, but somehow we managed.

"Whew! Thank you, Utopia!" Felice whispered. "He usually stops cleaning when I talk to him, but he didn't today… If you weren't there, I don't know how we could've gotten through to him…"

"Is he always like this?" I asked, concerned.

"No," answered Romano. "He hardly ever goes cleaning-Nazi. Only when he drinks too much beer. Which is weird, 'cause he only took two bottles today."

"Ehhh, really?" gasped Felice. "He must've been really stressed out today!"

"But why today?" I wondered aloud. "Did something happen?"

"Well…we had a final exam for math. And project reports for Science! But that's all I can think of…"

Romano glared at me for a second before leaning against the wall, releasing a breath of air.

"You got out of the infirmary today, Utopia. That must've been it."

Understanding dawned in Felice's eyes. "Ahh, you're right!"

I was confused. "What do I have to do with this?"

Before he could answer, Felice abruptly yawned. Right after that, Romano and I yawned, too.

"I'm sorry," I said, realizing how late it was. "It's getting late. I should go now."

"You think?" I thought I heard Romano mutter. "

"You're so nice," I teased. "Hey, is this your room too, Romano?"

"No," Felice answered for him. "Ve~ Ludwig actually shares this room with me and Gilbert—his brother—but sometimes Romano stays over, too. We switch rooms a lot."

"Is that even allowed?"

"Sure! Grandpa Rome doesn't mind."

What a funny school. Kids could drink alcohol and switch rooms around as much as they wanted. Old man Rome sure was lenient.

"Okay then, I'll see you later, right?"

"Yeah! Hey, let's all have breakfast tomorrow, ve! Utopia, do you want to eat breakfast with us?"

"I'd love to."

"Horray! Vacation starts tomorrow, so we're free to do whatever we want to. Meet us downstairs in the lounge at eight o'clock-ish, tomorrow. Oh, and you don't have to wear your uniform."

"Alright, thanks. I'll see you tomorrow."

"_Buona notte_, Utopia!" Felice called out just before I closed to door.

"Good night, Felice, Romano."

xXx

I couldn't sleep.

Not after the long, hot shower. Not even after getting dressed into the world's most comfortable baggy shirt and shorts or sinking into the single bed's warm blanket.

Feeling extremely inspired, I got out of bed, adorned myself in thick layers, and headed outside for the rooftop. I guess you could say it was comfortably cold. Very chilly, but satisfyingly so.

Climbing up on the raised platform, I discovered that I was not the only one without sleep this night.

"Good evening, Arthur," I said cheerfully. "What brings you up here tonight?"


	10. Chapter 9: Hello, My Name Is:

I leaned further back against Arthur's coat, taking quiet pleasure in watching puffs of my breath mist into existence and then evaporate away. When I startled him with my sudden appearance, he had jumped in slight surprise, nearly dropping the thick novel in his hands. He stuttered a hasty greeting looking a little annoyed, but remained polite. Noticing that there were only a few pages left for him to read, without a word I plopped down behind him and leaned comfortably against his back. I nearly squealed in excitement when he didn't irritatingly pull away. You can't blame me; I just woke up yesterday with no memory of my life.

It was like…making my first friend.

I grimaced a little. These thoughts were reminding me of my little mental confusion earlier in my room. When I couldn't bring myself to sleep and happy dreams, I had begun to think about my memories and how I was supposed to get them back.

When the thinking had become too much to bear, I tried to escape by coming out here. But they just kept coming back.

A satisfied sigh came from Arthur, along with the satisfying closing of his book. Wow, he was a fast reader. Too fast, in fact, because I couldn't gather my thoughts quickly enough before I blurted out a question.

"Hey, Arthur? You know when people lose their memories?"

He was taken by surprise. "Y-Yeah?"

"Why is it that they forget everything about themselves, or about other people, but they always remember how to speak?"

Arthur shifted a little to stretch his dormant muscles. I scooted over by to sit by his side. The snow was falling very lightly now.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

I thought a little to rephrase my question. "Well, it's like that in movies and stuff, right? Someone gets hurt and loses their memories about their family, friends, and sometimes themselves. But even if they lose all their memory, why is it that they always remember how to speak English, or walk, or interact with people? I mean, if they really lose all their memory, wouldn't they act like a newborn baby?"

"I don't think memory loss goes that far," he said thoughtfully. "Most likely, you forget the things that you've experienced rather than learned."

I considered his answer for a while. "Okay, so does that mean I'm an extreme case of memory loss? I remember everything I've learned but nothing I've experienced."

He gave me a side-long glance, but I never noticed. "I guess so." He placed his book aside and gave me a reassuring pat on the back. "But don't worry. I'm sure you'll get your memories back. I mean, they always do," he assured me, referencing back to my movie example.

His comment made me even more stressed.

"But doesn't it always end up that the memories they lost were the ones they meant to forget in the first place? It's always the memories that were painful and too heavy to bear." I looked at him pleadingly. "Please don't tell me that this is going to end up being so cliché and I, like, tried to commit suicide after murdering someone."

To my utter relief, he didn't laugh. Instead, he took my words very seriously.

"Painful…and too heavy to bear…"

Abruptly, without waiting for him to finish his thoughts, I asked another question hammering on my mind.

"Do Alfred and Ivan hate each other?"

At this he scoffed a little. "It's sort of an on and off thing."

"Hm? Why is that?"

"It's difficult to explain. To talk about relationships in this school is to know the…odd terms we seem to use."

"If you're willing to talk, I'm willing to listen."

"Well, first of all, this school has students from every country in the world—"

"Really?"

He gave me a look that made me grin sheepishly and 'zip' my mouth closed.

"Yes, as you know that this is the _World Academy Boarding School_. We're literally a World Academy. This brings us a lot of sponsors, which is one reason why the school is so big despite there being a small amount of students."

"Okay…?"

"Anyways, in the past, there have been countless arguments between us. We like to compare them to wars. Some people form alliances with others to match up against their enemies. Half of our fights take place physically while the other half takes place behind the scenes. From these wars, a few people became hated while others gathered more followers. Some of the more powerful students here are Ludwig, Feliciano, Yao, Francis, Kiku, Ivan, Alfred, and—not to be immodest—myself.

"Right now, there aren't any major wars occurring. But just recently, Alfred and Ivan dragged a lot of people into their own personal war—the Cold War. They were absolutely disdainful of each other, but didn't fight outright for fear of throwing the whole school into chaos. So they had other people fight for them. It was a stupid argument, but I'm relieved it's over now. Things are getting better between them, but they can still be really immature sometimes."

"So was that what you meant when you said, 'Here we go again,' at dinner?"

"Not really." He looked away so I couldn't see his expression. "Actually, you should know… A lot of our fights were over you."

"Over me? What do you mean?"

He blushed, his cheeks red against the pale atmosphere. "D-Do I really have to explain why boys would fight o-over you?"

"Don't tell me all these fights started because some guys _liked_ me?" I said, gaping in disbelief.

From the color of his cheeks, I could tell he really wanted to deny that. But he didn't, because what I said was true.

"Ewww." I flopped back into the snow, not caring about the ice that got tangled in my hair. "I don't want to be the reason you guys fight all the time."

"It can't be helped," Arthur said harshly. "You're the very figure of perfection. Perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect mind—you're the most admired student at this school. You inspire people and make them try harder to achieve new things. Of course we do stupid things for you. I guess it's no coincidence your name is Utopia."

All of a sudden, I stood up, annoyance boiling in my blood.

"What if I don't want to be _perfect_ anymore?" I near shouted. "I hate this! I hate _her!"_

Arthur winced at my outburst. "Who the hell are you talking about?"

"_Utopia_," I leered. "She's oh so perfect. I don't know how in the hell you guys fell in love with her and admired her when _even I_ hate her."

He whipped his head around to look at me. "Are you okay? Why are you talking about yourself like you're a different person?"

"Because I _am_ a different person!" Facing the starry heavens, I shouted to the world, "I AM NOT UTOPIA!"

Arthur scrambled up and clamped his hand over my mouth. "Goddamn, woman. You're going to wake everyone up! Have you gone nuts?"

I pulled away from his grip. "But I…I can't be as perfect as Utopia." Frustrated tears began to swell up in the corners of my eyes. "I can't live up to her expectations. I'm only going to disappoint you guys if I try to act like little miss perfect again. I'll fail and…and you guys will…"

"You idiot! How do you know that will actually happen? Are you psychic? Tell me, can you see into the future?"

"N-No."

He huffed in annoyance. "Then stop thinking such stupid thoughts and just be yourself. You're not going to disappoint anyone."

"But won't you guys be at least a little disappointed?" I argued. "Admit it; I'm a completely different person now that I've lost all my memories."

Arthur seemed to hesitate.

"What is it?"

His face blushed pink. "Well, I actually like you better than before. And everyone, too!" he hastily added.

"Are you telling me this just to comfort me?"

"No! It's true, believe me. Utopia was someone so amazing she was untouchable. On some days she would join in on our conversations, and on others she would say nothing at all. She'd never express any personal opinions on things and she'd assume the illusion of being close to everyone, but _I could tell_. She was so close, and yet so distant from us. I don't know if it was fear or reverence, but she'd never get too close to anyone.

"But you… Already, I can tell you're different from her. I can sense it; the feeling of wanting to be close to everyone. You're so much more open and friendly. It's like comparing a diamond to a bouquet of flowers. What I'm trying to say is that now it's not just us wanting to be friends with you. I mean, now it's like you…want to be friends with us, too."

It felt like a huge burden was lifted off my shoulders with his heartfelt words and piercing green eyes. But there was still one thing weighing me down.

"Okay…so I guess I can just be myself," I said. "As my first friend, can I tell you something?"

"Yes?"

"I don't want my memories back."

"…why?"

I sighed. "It's hard to explain. It's like…it's like I was born today with all the knowledge in the world, ready to live a life of my own without the burden of being Utopia or whoever I used to be. I'll be able to make friends and go to school and be happy for myself. But if I get my memories back…I'll never get the chance to live my own life. I'm scared that Utopia will come back and take everything away from me."

We both fell silent. There, I said it. All the things that have been bothering me. All of my true feelings about who I once was and who I am right now.

He was the first to break the silence.

"I don't know what to say to that," he admitted, scuffling the snow with his shoes. I realized we had been standing for quite a while.

"You don't have to say anything," I said, my smile coming back to life. "You listened to what I wanted to say. And that's all I'll ever ask for."

As if on cue, we sat down next to each other on the snow.

"Why don't you make a name for yourself?"

"Huh?"

He looked at me with those green, green eyes. "A name. If we're going separate Utopia and you, I don't want to keep referring to you as 'you' all the time."

I giggled a little. "Oh, okay. Then…I want to be…hmm…"

"Lily? Jenna? Kristy?"

"Tope. My name is Tope."

"Tope? Isn't that an alcoholic drink?"

"No! It's also a color. Something like a black mixed with dark brown, with a glimmer of red. It's kinda hard to describe, but I like the word anyways."

"Tope and Utopia. Sounds brilliant."

"Thank you," I said sincerely. "I've probably tired you out. Sorry for that."

He shook his head. "No, I'm sort of…happy we talked. To have had a real chat with you was refreshing."

"Alright then, I guess we should go back. It's…woah! It's almost one!"

"Hey, where did you get that iPod?"

"Huh? Oh, I found it in my desk. It has a crap ton of songs on it."

"Really? I don't remember Utopia having an iPod."

"That's cool!" I laughed. "I've discovered something about Utopia that no one knew about!"

He grinned. "We sound mad, talking about Utopia when you're standing right here."

I fought the urge to stick my tongue out at him. Instead I said, "Hey Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"What was the bet you made with Francis?"

"Wh-What bet?"

"You know, the one Francis mentioned at lunch today? Did it have something to do with getting his lunch for him?"

"I…I don't know what you're talking about."

"…your stuttering isn't convincing." I leaned in closer. "Come ooon! You can tell me!"

"Absolutely not!"

I 'hmph'ed, pouting. "Fine then. If you won't tell me, then I'll just have to ask Francis tomorrow. I'm sure he'll give me all the _juicy details_."

"W-Wait! Bloody hell, fine. I'll tell you."

Arthur's glaring eyes unfazed my cheery expression.

He stared at the ground. "It was a bet to see who could get a date with the girl we liked," he mumbled. "And I was brash and figured since everyone fancied Utopia, and there was no way anyone could catch a date with her, it wouldn't make a difference whether that frog or I asked her first. So I got to Utopia before him. Of course I got shot down immediately." Arthur bit his lip. "But that frog didn't ask Utopia. He went for some lower classman girl instead, and she accepted him! That git, he knew I would make a fool of myself."

"Awwwww," I cooed. "You asked Utopia on a date and got rejected?"

"No teasing!"

"Arthur and Utopia sitting in a tree," I sang. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G~~~"

"Sh-Shut it!"

"Oh, don't be so stiff," I laughed. "I think it's adorable."

"It's embarrassing. And ridiculous."

"Fine, fine.

Arthur stood up, brushed the snow off his coat, and—like a gentleman—he helped me up as well. Just before we reached the door, I stopped him.

"Um, Arthur?"

"What is it now?"

"I would really appreciate it if you called me Tope, and kept Utopia in the third person," I murmured.

"Alright," he said. "I'll be sure to stick to that."

"Thank you. Again," I added.

"Don't mention it." He paused, and then cursed. "Damn, I forgot my book. You can go in already. Have a good night, Tope."

"Okay. Good night Arthur."

While he went back up to grab his book, I made my way inside, grateful for the building's heater. Because my dorm was right next to the door, all I had to do was turn to the right wall. But…

…there was something hanging from my door. On closer inspection, I realized that the object wasn't hanging, but _stabbed_ straight into the wood. It took a few tries because it was lodged in so deeply but I finally yanked out the silver butter knife from the wood.

"Oh, haven't you gone inside yet?" came Arthur's voice. On instinct I hid the knife in my coat.

"Yeah, I couldn't find my key." Pulling my key out, I laughed. "Found it!" I opened my door and went inside, wishing Arthur a good night again.

Inside my (plain and boring) room, I switched on the lamp to inspect the knife further. Attached to the handle was a note scribbled harshly with an ink pen.

_**Stay away from my brother.**_

"Brother?" I said aloud. That was weird. Who would threaten me with a butter knife and a scary note? Putting this problem aside, I placed the knife on my desk. This was a mystery for another day.

I crawled into my comfortable bed and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

xXx

"_Bon giorno_, pretty lady," cheered Felice as I walked into the longue. "Are you ready for breakfast?"

"Yup! Good morning, Ludwig. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah. Sorry for last night."

"Stop apologizing. It's fine." Spotting Arthur walking out from the elevator, I called out to him, "Hi, Arthur!"

"Hello, Tope."

Cue the many confused looks and questions as to why he was calling me Tope, and my countless explanations over the next few hours.

Telling people my name was Tope made me extremely happy.

I could officially live my own life separate from the past.

XxX

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Ahh...just a real quick note. Everything uploaded here is actually directly from my Quizilla (which is also under justanortherrainyday, btw), so there may be a few mistakes with the formatting. I do apologize for that and ask that you message me about it!**

***laughs* FF is so...complicated with the uploading process. xD But I think I'm doing alright so far!**

**As for the chapter, sorry for the massive character development. I wanted to do this early on so I don't beat around the bush later! :D**


	11. Chapter 10: Safety First

"Move your fatass, commie."

"Look who's talking."

"_Vous idiots_. Would you two please release your sexual tensions somewhere else?"

"Would you like me to fix your face?"

"_N-Non._"

"Don't worry, Francis! I'll save you 'cause I'm the hero!"

"Ve, this pasta is really good, Ludwig!"

"Hrn."

"Really? I still think your pasta is better, aru."

"Aww, thank you, Yao!"

"Belt _up_, Alfred!"

"Ahhh! Tope! Help me! Iggy's going to throw his scones at me!"

"You're on your own, Al," I laughed.

"Oh. That's okay. He throws like a girl anyways."

"What?" Arthur sputtered.

"You agree with me, don't you Kiku?"

"A-Ah….um….no comment."

While Arthur and Alfred continued to batter each other, I took a sip from my lemon iced tea. The ten of us were eating dinner together (Mattie was sitting unnoticed by his brother). Our surrounding peers stopped staring at us nervously by the third meal. I guess they figured that the eight powers of the school _weren't_ planning to start a war with someone and decided to leave us alone.

"Tope-san?"

I hummed, "Mmm-hmm?"

"Your doctor's appointment is tomorrow, right?" Kiku asked conversationally, trying to direct the conversation away from throttling a certain 'bloody American'.

Amazingly, our table stopped talking.

"Yeah," I said. "Antonio's going to drive me there."

I caught Alfred throwing Ludwig a grin, Felice ve-ing excitedly, and Ivan exchanging knowing looks with Yao.

"What are you guys smiling about? Did I miss something?"

"It's nothing," Al lied.

I narrowed my eyes. "Oh, really?"

All of a sudden, Ivan stood up from out table, startling nearby people. "Ahhh~" he yawned. "I am tired! Good night everyone~"

As if on cue, the rest of our table started stretched their arms and yawning, saying that they needed to get some sleep for tomorrow. I stayed at the table with Matthew, utterly confused.

"Did I miss something?" I asked him.

"I don't think so," he replied softly.

Shrugging it off, I muttered, "What are they planning?"

"Oh, um…Alfred is calling me," Matthew said, looking at his phone. "I have to go now…"

Giving him a smile, I said, "That's okay. I'll see you later, Mattie."

"Good night, Tope."

I watched as Matthew zipped down the stairs to catch up to the others, sucking up the remains of my drink. After a while, I got bored and decided to turn in. It took me two minutes to toss the boys' trash into a bin (man, Al sure was a slob) and head downstairs for the dorm.

However, before I could get very far on the snowy path, a voice made me jump.

"The snow is very beautiful, yes?"

"I-Ivan! Where'd you come from?" I moved to the side of the path to make room for him. He and I walked side by side under a winter fantasy of trees. "Yeah, the snow is nice this time of year."

"You haven't remembered anything yet, have you?"

He asked this question every other hour.

"No."

"That's too bad."

I gave him a side-long look. "Is there something that you want me to remember, Ivan?"

"Yes, there is actually. The time where Alfred lost a bet to Kiku and he had to shove a ball of wasabi in his mouth. He was crying for hours."

I cracked a grin. "Now that's something I wish I could remember." I blew hot air between my fingers, chasing all the cold away. "Do you wear that scarf all the time?"

His hand suddenly came up possessively. "Yes. I never take it off."

"Never? Like, not even during the summer?"

"No! I can't take it off! It's a body part!"

I stared at him, and then suddenly grinned. "Oh, really? Does that mean if I pull this, it won't come off?" Taking hold of the end of the scarf, I teasingly tugged at it.

Ivan instantly encased his hand over mine, muttering his infamous, "Kol, kol, kol…"

I let go, still smiling. "Okay, okay."

We had already reached the dorm building and I said hi to a few lounging students watching TV, heading to the elevator at the end of the back hall. Ivan followed me inside.

I noticed he didn't press the button for the second floor (his dorm room, unshared with anyone else).

"Are you coming with me?" I inquired. Fourth floor was the girl's half of the building.

"Da," he answered simply.

"…why?"

"To make sure you get back to your room safely."

I eyed him skeptically, sarcastically saying, "Oh. Well in that case, thank you very much, Ivan! How will I _ever_ repay you for your heroic deeds? I'll do _anything_!"

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You'll do anything?"

"Aaaanything," I drawled, playing along.

Leaning closer to my face, his smirk widened. "I'll hold you to that then, yes?"

_Bing_.The elevator door opened, and Ivan walked out with me following right behind him.

"Wait, please don't tell me you're going to take that seriously," I complained.

"Ah! So will I be one of the first to see Utopia's room, Tope?"

Behind his back, I crossed my fingers and prayed he wouldn't hold anything against me later on. My cold fingers fiddled around in my sweatshirt pocket for my room key. When I finally found it, I opened my door, dramatically presenting my room to Ivan.

He walked in, curious, examining the empty walls and single bed. I took a few minutes to plug my iTouch into its charger by the desk. And then suddenly, his shadow fell over me.

"Why do you have a knife in your room?" he asked, his voice angry.

I glanced at the silver butter knife on the table, unmoved where I had first placed it.

"Oh, I found it outside my room." I gave him a little smile. "I guess I forgot to bring it back to the cafeteria—"

Without warning, Ivan placed both of his arms on either side of me on the desk and towered over.

"Don't lie to me," he said, very close to my face. "I saw the mark on the door. Is someone threatening you?"

It surprised me how dead-on he was about this, but I held my composure.

"What are you talking about?" I said, pushing my palm on his chest, though he didn't budge. "And what mark on my door?"

"The deep incision in your door that goes as deep as half the width of the wood."

"I really don't know what you're talking about, Ivan. Now, can you just—move—"

"Нет, not until you tell me who has been threatening you."

"No one's been threatening me!" I said forcefully. "And what makes you think that in the first place? I found the knife on the ground a couple nights ago. Nothing is wrong with my door."

We stared into each other's eyes for the longest time, neither of us wavering. The intense look he gave me sent chills shivering down my spine. Not enough to confess, of course. But it was still a minute or so of breathing before I could speak again.

"Is there something going on?" I asked him. "Seriously, is there a reason why you think I'm being threatened?"

Ivan muttered something that I couldn't catch.

"Hey, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, Tope, I am listening to you."

"Was there something that you wanted me to remember? Is that what this is all about?"

~Ivan POV~

_She couldn't have been more right._

"No," I answered. "Haven't you already asked me this question?"

I withdrew from her. Tope took a deep breath and sighed. It saddened me to think that I saddened her. I released the air I was holding, pushing my hands deep inside my pockets.

"Yes, but your answer was unsatisfactory."

I shrugged. "Right now, it's the only answer I have." The clock on the wall read eight o' clock. "Ah, it's getting late. I need to go now."

She didn't say a word until I was out the door.

"Hey, Ivan?"

"…yes?"

"Don't demand that I tell you the truth," came her voice, "unless you're willing to do the same for me. Oh, and have fun at your secret meeting with the boys, 'kay?"

I said nothing. Just closed the door.

xXx

Alfred's room was on the first floor.

"Hey, man! What took you so long?"

I closed the door behind me, pulling off my coat because it was suddenly very warm. Alfred never really did appreciate winter.

"Nothing. I see everyone is here."

"I don't see why we need to meet," said Arthur, his face irritated. "Why'd you call this anyways, Alfred?"

"To make sure everyone's set for tomorrow! Admit it—without me, you guys would be so unorganized."

"We all know Ludwig-san will be driving. Please do not be offended, Feliciano-kun, but I really do not want you driving the car like last time."

"Ve, none taken!"

"Alright, now that we've got our driver, who's gonna be our decoy?"

Silence.

"I think we should consider Matvey for this position," I suggested.

"Wh-What?"

Everyone else immediately agreed.

"Yeah, Mattie! You're so unnoticeable you won't have a problem sneaking away from Mr. Zwingli when he blows up at us!"

"But I wanted to go shopping for Christmas, too—"

Alfred clapped his brother on the back unnecessarily hard. "Thanks, Mattie. You're doing us a good favor, bro."

I chuckled into my scarf at Matthew's dismay expression.

Tomorrow was going to be fun.

~~~~~~NEXT MORNING~~~~~~

~Tope POV~

_Knock, knock, knock. _

I groaned into my pillow, wishing whoever was knocking on my door would just go away. Unfortunately for me, they refused to retreat and knocked again. Yawning, I got up out of bed, slipped on a sweatshirt real quick, and answered the door.

Standing before me was a girl I'd never seen before. She was quite smaller than me, timid, and a little nervous. She looked up with eyes the color of dark ocean depths—sort of green, but more cyan.

"Good morning, Tope," she murmured quietly. "I'm sorry to wake you up but—"

"Who are you now?" I yawned, scratching my head. She reminded me of bashful little Mattie. Only shy-er and with long, dark brown hair.

"At-Atlantis," the girl stuttered, a light blush coloring her face. "Um, Mr. Carriedo wanted me to tell you to meet him in the parking lot in twenty minutes so that he could take you to the doctors."

Stifling another yawn, I stretched my arms. "That's great! Thanks."

"Wait!" she said just before I could close the door.

"Hmm?"

"A-Actually, Mr. Carriedo asked me to show you where the parking lot is."

"But I already know where the parking lot is."

"Could I walk with you anyways? I promised him that I would stick with you."

I gave Atlantis a long, calculative look.

"…you're kinda shy, aren't you?"

"I'm not!" she argued, her cheeks puffing as she pouted.

Grinning, I said, "Okay, can you wait a second? I'll get ready and come right back out."

"Okay."

xXx

A few minutes later—hair brushed, shorts traded for jeans, teeth clean, shoes laced up nice and tight—I opened the door to greet a patient Atlantis only to find something completely different.

"Ah! _Bonjour, _Tope! I see you are looking as beautiful as ever!"

"H-Help me?"

Francis—in all his sexy, perverted glory—had poor Atlantis with her back against the wall. His tie was loose and his shirt open, revealing a masculine chest. With a squeak, Atlantis zipped around Francis and hid behind my back.

Using an arm to guard her, I gave Francis _the look_.

"So! What did you need, Francis?"

"Hold on, that can wait a moment. _Mademoiselle Atlantis!_ How good it is to see you again! We're still on for Wednesday, _non?_"

Atlantis pressed something into the palm of my hand. I recognized the shape of the handle. It was a pepper spray tool. I couldn't help but smile. It looks like _someone_ came here equipped.

"Francis…just step away from the lady, please…"

The Frenchman took one look at the pepper spray and scoffed. "Oh please, Tope. You should know by now that my love cannot be thwarted by a mediocre _pepper spray_—"

"Francis, if you don't step back right now, I'm going to spray this in your eyes and then kick you in the nuts. You have five seconds. Five. Four."

"Oh, come on, _ma cheri_," he laughed nervously, taking exactly three steps back. "You know I was just joking, right?"

I handed Atlantis back her pepper spray.

"Sure," I said. "I believe you."

"Do you really?"

"No."

Behind me, I heard Atlantis giggle. She stopped hiding behind me and leaned against the wall. Of course, she didn't move any closer to Francis.

"So? What did you want, lover-boy?"

"…oh! Monsieur Antonio wished me to escort the lady Tope to ze parking lot."

"But Antonio told Atlantis to show me the parking lot. Did he tell the both of you?"

"No," Atlantis said. "I'm pretty sure he only told me."

"Pfft, oh what does it matter? We must hurry, come on! Don't want you being late to your appointment!"

Francis took my arm and started to lead me away. I sighed, but brushed my annoyance away. The appointment was going to be very soon.

"I'll see you later, Atlantis!" I called out to her, stumbling to look behind me. "I'll talk to you at dinner or something!"

"O-Okay! Good-bye, Tope!"

"Bye!"

xXx

"What the—Why are you dragging me around, Francis? I can walk on my own now, please."

"You might go ze wrong way."

"How the hell can I go the wrong way when I can _see_ Antonio's car?"

"What? Zat's not Antonio's car. It's zat one, over there." Francis nodded his head toward a large white van that looked a little worn from use. No one appeared to be inside.

"…that thing screams horror movie and kidnapping. I'm not going near that—"

"TOPE! TOPE! HELP MEEEE!" cried out a familiar voice from the van.

"Felice?"

Abandoning Francis, I rushed over to the big white van to help Felice get away from whatever mental kidnappers held him captive. Throwing open the passenger door, I expected to see the poor Italian tied up and gagged. What I didn't expect was Ludwig sitting in the driver's seat, looking grim.

"Ludwig?" I said in surprise.

The back door of the van opened and then slammed shut. From where I stood, I couldn't see into the back.

"MONSIEUR ZWINGLI IZ RUNNING AT ZE CAR RIGHT ZIS INSTANT!" shouted a heavy French accent. "LUDWIG, PULL HER IN!"

Without another word, Ludwig's undeniable strength latched onto me and dragged me into the van. A second later, someone from behind me sat me down in the passenger seat and pulled the seatbelt over me.

"Safety first, da?"

"Go, go, go! Zwingli's running into the lot and he's got his gun!"

"Alfred?" I gaped. "Ivan, too? Wait, is everyone here?" I twisted around in my seat and found seven faces smiling at me (the eighth being Ludwig, and the boy was far from smiling). In the rear view mirror, I spotted a man sprinting across the parking lot, waving a gun in his hand.

Ludwig immediately switched on the car and floored it. There were cries of protest as everyone was thrown back. I heard Alfred mutter, "Come on…come on, Mattie…"

Watching the man with the gun running at us, I was shocked to see Matthew tackle him down to the ground. Despite having Mattie right next to him though, the teacher looked around dazedly for his attacker.

"Yes!" Arthur shouted as we screeched out of school campus at high speed. "We're out!" All the other boys gave each other high fives.

"Wait!" I barked, silencing their cheers (but not their grins). "What in the world are you guys doing? Why the hell am I in a _van?_"

"Oh, calm down," Alfred said, rolling his eyes. "We just saved you from hours of listening to Antonio's singing."

"Si," Felice joined in. "We call this mission: _Kidnap Tope!_"

"…that's reassuring."

"We will bring you to your appointment," Ludwig finally said, speeding up even more as we got on the highway. "While you visit the doctors, we're going to go to the mall around the block."

I gripped the sides of my seat and watched the speed limit sign fly by so fast, I couldn't determine the numbers.

"And what were you guys planning to shop for at the mall?"

"Christmas presents. We try to go shopping before the rest of the school is allowed to, or else all the good stuff is taken."

I paused. "So you kidnapped me in order to get your Christmas shopping done before everyone else?"

"Convenient, ja?"

"…apparently so."

XxX

* * *

><p>AN - Atlantis belongs to a friend, _o0lala_ on Quizilla. :)

Atlantis (c) - o0lala


	12. Chapter 11: Doctor's Appointment

"Utopia? Dr. Matsumoto will see you now," the nurse called from the desk.

"Go get 'em!" Alfred cheered me on. I rolled my eyes at the group of eight kidnappers and walked toward the door that led to the check up rooms. However, before I could open it, the door burst open to reveal a woman in a white doctor's coat.

"Oh! I'm so sorry sweetheart," she apologized sheepishly. "You're Utopia, yes?"

"Yup."

She glanced over to my friends. "Are these boys with you?"

"Yeah, they dropped me off. They're planning to go to the mall right now."

She waved them over, to which the boys complied. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to have a couple of you stay here for a few minutes or so. It's nothing big. I just wanted to ask a few questions about Utopia."

I frowned confusedly. But I was standing right here…

"I can stay!" Felice chirped happily.

Dr. Matsumoto grinned. "Okay! I'll take this one here and…you, big guy," she added, pointing to Ivan.

"Eh? Me?" he said in surprise.

"Sure! The rest of you can go to the mall," Dr. Matsumoto allowed. "Don't worry, these two won't be long."

"You can keep the Russian," Alfred muttered, inducing a dark look from Ivan.

"Come on then, Utopia and Utopia's two friends."

The three of us split off from the main group and walked inside the main branch of doctor's offices. I was escorted to office number 23 while Felice and Ivan were brought to somewhere else for some questions. I wondered what Dr. Matsumoto could've wanted from them she couldn't get from me.

In the meantime, I looked around the room. It was very small with a sink and supplies in one corner, a scale in the other, some health posters, and a padded mattress covered in crinkly paper that was so high off the ground, I would be at Dr. Matsumoto's eye level if I sat down on it.

So I took a seat on a ground level chair and waited patiently for her to come.

Ten minutes later, Dr. Matsumoto swept into the room, her red curls bouncing.

"Sorry for taking so long," she said with a smile on her face. "So! Hello, Utopia. It's nice to meet you for the first time!"

I shook her outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you, too. Actually, can you call me Tope?"

"Sure, if that's alright with you."

Dr. Matsumoto did some standard checks (heart rate, blood pressure, temperature, weight, etc.) all the while making pleasant small talk with me. You know—"How was school?"; "Does your head hurt a lot?"; "Have you been feeling a little off lately?" I answered as best as I could.

An hour later, I was pulling hair ties out of my hair and taking off the X-Ray equipment from my body. Dr. Matsumoto had me take an X-Ray of my head just in case there was damage to my skull (though she high doubted it). She also made me take some other complicated operations, explaining that they would help her give an inside picture of my brain. I forget already; being dragged around the hospital was extremely boring.

Finally, at long last, I was released from my monotonous torture. In her office once again, Dr. Matsumoto told me the news.

"Okay, Tope," she started, "I think I've got all the information I need to run a full analysis. However, it'll take me a while to run things through with my colleagues and I'm pretty sure you're tired of staying in the hospital. How's about you meet your friends at the mall and stay there, and then come back in an hour or so and I can tell you our final conclusion. Does that sound okay to you?"

I nearly jumped up and shouted YESS!

"Sure," I said. "That sounds perfect."

"Okay then, Tope. Back here in my office in an hour." With that she left me alone.

While leaving, something on the sink's counter caught my eye. It was a loose folder with my name on it and today's date.

Curiosity got the better of me. _Just a quick glance_, I promised.

The first page had basic health diagnostics and information, the second even less interesting. However, the remaining page was what piqued my interest.

* * *

><p><strong>Feliciano Vargas (classmate)<strong>

**1) Perfect, smart, good cook, very helpful, good friend.**

**2) Reading, singing, music, "I don't really know anything else."**

**3) "Utopia? Ve~ (?), she's still really, really, really (…) NICE and happy and cute. She used to eat pasta with us all the time! And she also stopped everyone from fighting! Everyone liked her. Ah! Did I mention she's cute? Ve~ (?)"**

**Ivan Braginski (classmate)**

**1) Perfect, quiet, intelligent, diplomatic, nice, pretty, likeable, cold, distant, fair, beautiful, a whore, attention-inducing, "like a sunflower," pure, innocent, sad, mysterious, helpful, etc.**

**2) Singing, music, studying, keeping the peace, butting into other people's business, playing hero, playing perfect, being an impassive bitch, etc.**

**3) "Utopia was perfect. Now she's different. I think that's all you need to know, da?"**

* * *

><p>I stared at what was written on the paper. These must've been the answers to the questions that Dr. Matsumoto had asked Felice and Ivan. At a first glance, their answers looked normal. But when I read Ivan's one closely, it looked like he both hated me and liked me at the same time. He called me a <em>whore<em>, and then called me "innocent" and "pure" right after! I sighed. Nothing about Ivan ever made sense.

There were also some doctor's notes on the left-hand margin.

* * *

><p><em>Doctor: Janet Matsumoto<em>

_~Feliciano = energetic, but honest_

_~Sweet, attracted to Tope?_

_~Nice, good friend, trustworthy opinion_

_~Optimistic_

_~Ivan = Regard with caution_

_~Schedule appointment with therapist? Check school records._

_~Trustworthy?_

_~Intense, cold, cruel_

_~Friend?_

* * *

><p>I quietly closed the folder.<p>

Who was Ivan to Utopia? Why could he be so spiteful towards her?

Who was I to him now?

xXx

As soon as I walked out of the doctor's door and into the waiting room, I was greeted by the sight of Ivan sitting down with a bunch of little kids, playing with tiny toy cars and making funny sound effects as he pretended one flew into the air and exploded. His wide-eyed audience watched his movements in complete awe, fully entertained.

"I-Ivan?" I tried not to laugh. "Watcha doing?"

When Ivan looked up, there was a light in his eye that I could only describe as childish. He looked so innocent, violet eyes shining, a big smile on his face. He let the children have the cars and bid them good bye (in Russian, no less) before standing up to join me.

"Were you waiting here this whole time?" I asked.

"It wasn't so bad," he replied. "The children were very fun to play with."

I smirked at the thought. "I didn't know you were good with kids."

"I'm not. They just seemed to like watching cars exploding and people dying."

"I…have nothing to say to that."

xXx

"So you have an hour to relax here?" Ivan asked, holding the door open for me.

"Yeah," I said, walking inside and feeling the heater's warmth fall over me like a blanket.

The mall looked so much bigger on the inside with all sorts of shops going down long, tall halls and people everywhere. I counted three floors going up with escalators and elevators. The tiles and walls had an eye-pleasing 'earth' tone to them.

"Let's go eat something, Tope," Ivan said, already walking down a hall. "You didn't eat breakfast, did you?"

"Nope," I answered, catching up with him. "But I can wait until we get back. Besides, I have no money with me right now."

A low rumble in my stomach made me blush and Ivan smirk.

"I can pay," he reassured. "There's a café over there."

He and I got in line for the café and ordered little bits of food and drink to substitute for breakfast. Ivan took a simple cup of coffee and a flatbread. I asked for lemon iced tea (gods, I loved iced tea) and a chocolate muffin. We took a small table to ourselves and ate our food in silence.

"Excuse me," said a young business man, coming to our table. "Would you and your girlfriend like a chance to win in a drawing contest? The prize is an all-day pass to—"

"No," Ivan cut him off.

"We're not dating," I said as well. "Sorry." The businessman shrugged it off, thanked us for our time, and moved on to the next table. Ivan and I continued eating in silence.

Come to think of it, we _did_ look like a couple, didn't we? Same age, alone together in a café. I contemplated the thought of us dating. Did we look like a lovey-dovey couple? Or did we look more like friends grabbing a quick bite to eat?

"Let's go shopping," Ivan suddenly said, bringing me out of my thoughts. "The others are ahead of us in buying Christmas presents."

I glanced at my iPod. There were at least forty-five minutes left.

"Sure," I said, gathering our rubbish and tossing them in the trash. We left the café and walked back into the wonders of the mall. "So what do you want for Christmas, Ivan?"

He shrugged. "My country doesn't celebrate Christmas on the 25th. We have a holiday on January 7th, and even that's more like the New Years for us."

"So if I buy you something really cool, you won't want it?"

"Нет, if you insist, you can still give _me_ a present," he teased.

"Then what would you like?" I asked. "Is there anything that you had in mind?"

He pondered this. "Hmm…vodka?"

I mentally made a list of presents to buy in my head. "Okay, vodka. Anything else?"

"A sunflower. What about you, Tope? What do you want for Christmas?"

I pursed my lips, thinking but not coming up with any answers.

"Nothing really. I'll be happy if I can spend Christmas with you guys."

"What about your birthday?"

Oh yeah…that was coming up in a month, too.

"Um…I don't know?" I said helplessly.

"Bad answer. Try again."

"Then…a hug!"

Ivan was surprised. "A hug?"

I nodded, very sure of myself. "Yes, I want a great big bear hug on my birthday. If you can give me that, then you're good."

He frowned. "But I can give you a hug right now. Your idea is too simple."

I stubbornly shook my head. "Nu-uh. I want a hug and I'm sticking to that."

Stepping in front of me, Ivan held his arms out wide. "If I give you a hug right now, then will you tell me what you really want?"

I grinned and dodged his arms, continuing to walk forward. "Nope! You're not going to cheat your way out like that. If you really want to get me a present I'll like, you have to find one yourself."

"Don't be so mean, Tope," he sang.

I threw him a smile. "I'll be mean if I want to, Ivan."

xXx

More than a half-an-hour later, my time at the mall was up and Ivan brought me back to the hospital. We didn't buy anything from the shops, just walked around to random places and tried to avoid running into the others. We were almost seen by Kiku and Felice at the bookstore. Ivan and I tried to stop from laughing when the two of them tried to find the source of popcorn bits being thrown at them.

"Hi, I'm Utopia," I said to the nurse at the desk. "Dr. Matsumoto wanted to see me?"

The nurse gave me a smile. "Yes, you can wait for her in room 23. She'll be right with you."

"Thank you." To Ivan I said, "I'll meet you guys by the van in half-an-hour."

"See you soon, Tope," he said.

In Dr. Matsumoto's office, I didn't have to wait very long before the woman came in the room.

She looked grim.

I said nothing as she closed the door behind me and gestured that I take a seat. I followed her directions obediently, wondering what sort of bad news she was planning to share that reflected so clearly in her eyes.

"So, I ran through your diagnostics with my colleagues and we talked over an analysis about the data we got. We went over several different variations of your circumstances and we've come back to the same conclusion with every run."

"…just say it, doctor," I said bluntly. "Don't beat around the bush."

"When your head hit the ground, your skull wasn't damaged in any way, but there was a strong impact sent to your brain and the vibrations…they…just _hit_ your temporal lobe the wrong way. I'm afraid that you have permanent amnesia."

I stared at her.

Permanent.

Amnesia?

I tried to keep my face focused and stop the grin from spreading across my face.

"So that means that…?"

"Your memories won't be coming back. But you seem to be doing just fine now," she quickly added. "Though your behavior is slightly different from before, based on some comparisons we made with Feliciano and Ivan and…some of your teachers, I don't think that any difference from before will affect you very much."

"So does this mean that I'll never, ever get my memories back?" I asked, daring to hope.

She gave me a sad look. "Yes, I'm sorry to say."

I shook my head, waving my arms around in denial. "No, no! I'm actually really happy!"

Dr. Matsumoto blinked in surprise. "You're happy? Why?"

"Well, I've got a theory," I explained. "I didn't want my memories back because I actually _like_ living like this—having no memory, being a different person than who I was before. I was kinda scared that if I suddenly remembered who I was, I would go back to acting like the old Utopia."

"…and you don't want to go back to being Utopia," Dr. Matsumoto confirmed.

"Yeah," I sighed. "That's the gist of it."

"I see…"

The woman gazed at the wall, considering my explanation. She looked back at me with kind eyes.

"I guess that makes sense," she said, an honest smile on her face. "So you'll be okay?"

"Yes, I'll be fine."

She helped me up from my chair and stood with her hands on her hips as I stretched.

"You know," she commented, "those boys, Feliciano and Ivan?" Dr. Matsumoto grinned. "They both seem to be smitten with you. They said that you were pretty."

I blushed, but rolled my eyes. "They're probably just weird that way. Are we done here?"

She gave me a knowing look. "Yes, we're done here."

We walked outside her office and down the hall to the door that led outside.

Before she opened it for me, Dr. Matsumoto said, "Tope, there's something I need to tell you."

"Hm?"

"There's still a slight chance that you get your memory back. But the only way for that to happen is if you either experience major brain trauma equivalent to your fall, or extreme emotional trauma."

"What are the chances of that happening?"

"Very, very slim. In fact, I don't even know why I'm telling you this."

"Okay then, Dr. Matsumoto," I said, opening the door myself. "Thank you for everything."

"No problem. Be sure to come back if your head starts hurting."

"'Kay."

"Tope!" exclaimed Felice, running up to me. "Are you finished?"

To my pleasant surprise, I saw the whole gang sitting around in the waiting room, patiently waiting for me. Ivan and Alfred were playing with the trucks, entertaining little kids; Ludwig, Arthur, and Kiku were browsing through catalogs; Yao was having a conversation in Chinese with a young man; and Francis was hitting on nurses by the counter.

Feliciano glomped me, making my knees buckle. "F-Felice! Hey you guys! I thought I was gonna meet you guys by the van."

Ivan handed his prized Hot Wheel to a little boy that had been begging for it for a while.

"I went back and got them to come up here," he said. "Now we can all leave together."

"Well, let's get back to campus, then."

~~~15 minutes later~~~

"HOLY SHIT, LUDWIG YOU'RE FORTY MILES ABOVE THE SPEED LIMIT!"

"Hm?"

"Don't worry," Ivan said from behind me. "He always drives like this."

"At least it's not Feliciano," Alfred called.

There was a murmur of mutual agreement.


	13. Chapter 12: A Wooden Box

Just as I flipped onto my bed after a nice, relaxing shower, someone knocked at the door. At first I groaned and considered pretending not to be home. But then I decided against it and heaved myself off the bed to answer my persistent knocker. A familiar Canadian filled my sight.

"Matthew!" I said in surprise. "Wow, you don't look so good."

"Tope!" he exclaimed. Indeed, Matthew was looking quite panicked and uneasy. "I really need your help."

"What's going on, Mattie?"

"Al, Arthur, Francis, Yao and Ivan are drunk in my room and I can't get them to leave. I've tried everything, but they just won't listen!"

...wow. Shocker.

xXx

Rushing out the door with Matthew, we wasted no time in leaping down to the first floor where Matthew roomed with his brother. At his dorm entrance, we hesitated. Who knew what kinds of horrors awaited us inside? For all we knew, everyone could've been stark naked! Well, Francis was a given.

"On the count of three?" I offered. Matthew nodded.

One…two…THREE!

Matthew pulled open the door and rushed in while I paused. I heard some incoherent cursing and a few crashes inside, but a few seconds later Mattie poked his head out and said, "They're decent. Can you help me take them back to their dorms?"

The North American brothers had a very mediocre sized room with a bunk bed and two desks on the side. What I guessed was Alfred's top bunk was surrounded by posters of famous sports players, swimsuit models, and cars. Hanging above his bed on the ceiling was a giant American flag. Matthew's bed was a lot neater with pictures of him and his brother on the wall and a calendar. Judging by the amount of junk on one of the desks, I could tell whose things were whose.

However, with the room in its current state of chaos, I couldn't tell what belonged where. Books were strewn all over the ground, clothes were inside out and backwards and tossed carelessly everywhere, the smell of burning alcohol was hanging heavily in the air.

The first person to notice our presence was—of course—the shirtless Frenchman straddling a particularly flustered Englishman on Matthew's lower bunk.

"Ah, it'z ze beautiful Tope 'ere to jjjoin uz!" Leaping off of Arthur (or trying to), he stumbled over to where I stood and tried to grab me, but I deftly stepped out of his way. Francis fell face-first onto the floor and promptly knocked out.

Yao (draped over the chair) hiccupped and laughed something in Chinese. Alfred was snoring in the middle of the floor. Ivan's mouth was curled into an evil grin.

"Is he still alive?" I whispered, poking Francis' unconscious body with my toe. No response.

Matthew sighed and bent down to heave Francis up. "He's in the dorm just down the hall, so I can take him. I'll be right back." And with that, he left.

"I'm not going to spend the night sleeping below that frog while he's drunk," said a surprisingly sober Arthur. He slowly got up and (after a few tries) climbed atop the higher bunk, flopping down onto the thick mattress.

Yao chuckled, "Alfred be unhappy tomorrow. He sleep on ground! He get bad backache!"

"Who fucking cares?" was the tired response before Arthur finally fell asleep.

"Toooooope," sang an unusually high and cheery voice. I jumped as Ivan's arms came from behind and draped on my shoulder. Ivan's weight made my knees bend a little. He slurred, "_Vi ochen' krasiv'ya…_"

"S-Sorry, Tope," came Matthew's voice. He came in and tried to take Ivan from me.

The Russian immediately growled and bared his teeth. Mattie yelped and stumbled back. Ivan's expression turned sweet again as he turned back toward me, nuzzling my neck. "_Vi' tak tyeplo…_"

I gave Mattie a sheepish grin. "I can take him back," I offered. "You can help Yao."

"Okay."

xXx

"_Ya skuchala po tebye_," Ivan murmured in my ear as I just got his dorm door open. He had been muttering the same phrase over and over again in the hall, but I had no idea what it meant.

"Okay," I said. "Come on, we're almost there."

Inside his dorm, I couldn't help but stop and look around a bit. Ivan's room was quite plain. Its walls were a light grey-bluish hue and the carpet was a creamy vanilla white. It was a small room with a single bed and a desk. There was big sunflower in a huge vase, and next to it was a small decorative wooden box. It looked old.

Ivan and I stopped by his bed.

"Okay, big guy," I coaxed, trying to pry his arms off of me. "Come on, let go…"

"_Nyeeeet_," he drawled. "_Y' ne hoshuu idti... Ya skushallla po tebye…_"

"I don't know what you're saying," I sighed. "Now…let…go!"

In one great effort, I heaved him off of me and onto the bed, where he hit the mattress softly. Within seconds, I heard a light snore. My mouth curved into a small smile. I liked Ivan. He was a really good kid.

For a moment, I stood there—reflecting. After a long while of thinking, I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of chilly snow. When I really thought about it, his room made me feel oddly whole. It seemed familiar somehow. Like a forgotten memory…

I should've stopped there. But I couldn't. A strange, overwhelming sensation overcame my body and lulled it into an unstoppable momentum. It swung me like a pendulum, hypnotizing it back and forth and back and forth and back and forth until…

I turned around dazedly and walked toward the desk with the sunflower and the box. My hand slowly reached forward to touch the smooth lightwood cover. Intricate patterns and designs embellished its surface. There didn't seem to be any way to open it; it was just a block of pretty wood. But something told me that if I rotated the flower near the back and lined up the lines there—

"Don't touch that." Ivan suddenly came up behind me, grabbing my wrist tightly. His touch snapped me out of my reverie.

"I—"

"Don't _ever_ touch that," he snarled fiercely. "Don't ever, _ever_ touch that!"

His voice was so loud that I froze up. It first occurred to me that the heavy door had long since closed by itself.

"I can't let you do that!" he kept raging. "I can't let you do it again!"

"Do what, Ivan?"

Instead of answering, Ivan seized my back and my shoulders, using his arms to pull me up directly to his chest. Everything was happening so fast that I couldn't react at all.

"So you don't remember this?" he whispered.

And then he kissed me.

His wet lips pressed hard against mine, exerting so much force at once that I gasped, an action he took advantage of by slipping his tongue inside. The feeling of his tongue probing my mouth made my knees grow weak. Ivan's arms curled lower and tighter. He coaxed my lips to part further. The kiss grew heatedly warm.

I didn't know when or how, but one second we were standing, the next he's above me on the bed. I was lost in his arms. He was everything, a source of heat and light that filled my everywhere. Behind my closed eyelids, I saw an image of his face, eyes low and smirk wide. So enticing. So damn sexy.

In between kisses, he murmured, "And you don't remember this bed? You don't remember that night, Utopia?"

_What did he say?_

I opened my eyes and suddenly, his arms didn't seem all that safe anymore. His words stopped my heart cold.

"Little bitch," he hissed, all of a sudden very angry. His violet eyes glowed in the lightless room. "You tried to leave me. You tried to leave me and now _this_ happened!"

His grip turned vice-like. I struggled to break free. "Ivan! Let go of me!"

"I can't let you leave me, Utopia," he cried. "I can't… _Ya skuchala po tebye, Utopia. _Utopia…Utopia…"

Tears threatened to spill over my eyes. The way he spoke her name—it hurt.

I glared at him with all the hatred and resentment I could muster.

"I'm not her," I affirmed. "I am _not_ Utopia!"

"Of _course_ you are! If you weren't, then why do I still—" Ivan, eclipsing the ceiling from my sight, tightened his grip on the sheets next to my head. I could barely taste it when we were kissing, but the odor of alcohol was more prominent now. If it was possible, I would've said that he was drunker than before.

"Get off me," I nearly shouted. He refused to, and that pushed me to do the unthinkable:

I slugged him in the face.

As soon as my arm got free, I didn't hesitate to pull back and strike forward. My knuckles came in solid contact with the side of his left eye, causing him to recoil back in shock. A jolt of pain streaked down my arm, causing me to wince. Ivan groaned and rolled off of me, giving me the opportunity I needed to jump off the bed.

I almost made it to the door without looking back when a whimper caught my attention. Just to be cautious, I made sure I was halfway out the door before finally looking back.

Lying on the bed, Ivan looked so vulnerable. His eyes were shut tight, as if he was hiding from his worst fears. The thin sheets were twisted beneath him.

In his own world and oblivious to my presence, he whispered to himself, "_Ya skuchala po tebye…_Tope…"

I didn't stay to hear anymore.

xXx

~Ivan POV~

When she struck me in the face, the first thought that occurred to me was that I should strangle her. That I should kill her, then mutilate her body. I should drive my knuckles into her mouth and see how she likes being assaulted.

But just as I opened my eyes and clenched my fist as angry as ever, I saw the expression on her face…

…and it killed me.

There was anger and frustration, and oh was there the satisfaction of landing the hit. But beneath the surface of these emotions was something that I had been dreading for so long. Fear. She was scared.

I panicked. Anything but fear. Anything! When I fell to the side, she threw her body out of my daunting cage like a bird finally set free. The sight of it was a stab to the heart (the imaginary heart that I keep in my head). Defeated and depressed, I muttered nonsense to myself. She must have heard me, because at the door, she paused. I wanted to scream at her to run away.

Risking one last glance at her, I peeked at her through the slits of my eyes. She looked so vulnerable in the light of the hallway. Tope's eyes had never been kinder and more sympathetic. I loved it so much—the feeling of her kindness being directed at me.

The door closed, and everything was thrown into darkness. My head reeled with the aftermath of so much action. An insistent headache knocked violently at my skull. It was like the whole world was spinning, infinitely twisting grotesquely into new shapes that confused my mind.

The last thing I saw was the wooden box on the table.

"_Not again_," I whispered. "_Never again_."


	14. Chapter 13: Christmas Eve Contest

"What's going on?" I asked Kiku as I came down the stairs.

The dorm lounge was filled with chatter and discussion with tons of students sitting in chairs and the couch, watching the TV expectantly. I noticed that instead of the usual channels playing, there was a blue and white title screen that read, _Attention all students! Attention all students!_

"Ah, _ohayo gozaimasu_, Tope-san," Kiku greeted. He gestured to the TV. "Apparently, there will be a school wide announcement on the broadcast."

"Really?" Taking a look around, I didn't see any of our friends in the lounge.

"They are eating breakfast," Kiku answered my unspoken question.

Before I could comment on his psychic ninja powers, the chattering quieted down. But no one was looking at the TV anymore. Everyone was staring at something—or someone—down the hall.

The doors of the elevator had suddenly opened—briskly and with purpose—and a girl walked in, her head held up high. She had long hair the color of platinum wheat, sharp dark blue eyes, and an intimidating posture. The room fell completely silent (some even shivered) as she entered the lounge, took her seat nearest the door, and proceeded to read a rather thick novel that she pulled from her bag.

After a while, people went back to their chattering. I, for one, was very curious as to who she was. The way her hair tumbled down her back reminded me of a winter's wind. Atop her head was an interestingly large bow of black and blue. When I looked around the lounge, I realized that nearly every single girl had some sort of accessory in her hair, whether it was red ribbons or a clip.

_I'm different, though_, I absently thought.

All of a sudden, the text on the TV suddenly animated away and was replaced by a very serious looking teacher. He was wearing a thick green coat and a white beret upon dark blonde hair. His dark green eyes and permanent scowl seemed to pierce straight through the camera.

_"Good morning,"_ the teacher said formally, but not friendly. _"As you all know, Christmas is coming up. This year, we have decided to host a contest for the holiday."_ He paused, looking down at the paper in front of him. _"There will be a mandatory school wide assembly in the auditorium today at 6:00. We will tell you the rules and details of the Christmas Eve Contest and pick out your partners during the assembly. Again, come to the auditorium for a mandatory assembly at 6:00 p.m. this evening."_ Giving everyone one last glare, he snapped, _"If anyone is late or decides to skip the assembly, I'll make _sure_ that you will regret it."_

And from the look in his eyes just before the broadcast ended, I believed his words.

Someone changed the channel, and immediately the students dispersed. Kiku and I walked outside to join the others at breakfast.

"Kiku, I have a question," I said as we walked down the path.

"_Hai_?"

"Why do we have to go to an assembly when they could have just told us the rules on broadcast?"

"Headmaster Rome enjoys holding assemblies in the auditorium more than announcing things on broadcast."

I frowned, but left it at that. _That old man doesn't make any sense_, I thought.

Looking back, I realized that the girl with the bow in her hair had not gone out for breakfast.

xXx

"Tope!" Feliciano cheered as soon as Kiku and I came up with our food. "Did you hear? Did you hear? There's going to be a contest on Christmas Eve!"

I gave him a big smile and nodded as I sat down with my meal. Next to me, Ivan looked over at my sandwich. "Iced tea again?" he inquired.

"Yup." What can I say? I'm addicted. "So, about that contest. Does this happen every year?"

"It's not always a contest," Yao answered. "Sometimes it's a concert or a show."

"Last Christmas, it was a huge Secret Santa event," Alfred added. He laughed. "Hey! Remember when…"

And so, breakfast went on as Alfred shared some very interesting stories about how Arthur reacted to Ivan's…unique present during the Secret Santa event. Everyone laughed, even Arthur himself. Ludwig commented on the oddity that his brother's name had appeared on multiple slips. At some point in the conversation, Alfred turned on me.

"Hey, we're having a dodgeball game this afternoon. You wanna come?"

I paused in my iced tea. "Sure. When?"

"An hour after lunch. Just come meet in the gym."

"Did you get your PE uniform yet?" Ivan asked. I nodded. "Good! Ever since Francis tried to attend PE naked, they have required us all to wear our PE uniforms in the gym."

"I have the right to express my inner artist!" Francis complained.

Ludwig coughed awkwardly as Ivan nodded, still smiling.

"Ufu~ I really hope that you will dress properly in front of Tope, da?"

For a moment, there was an uncertain silence. Then I broke out laughing, and soon enough, everyone else joined in.

xXx

After sneaking off to the library, I spent most of the day just hanging around the solitary bookshelves, reading stories. Ludwig and Felice managed to sneak my lunch inside (they remembered my iced tea!) and I was able to listen in on their tutoring session. The German was pleased that I still remembered my lessons.

"I have to go to my dorm to get my clothes," I said to them as the lunch bell rang. "I'll see you at the gym?"

"Ja. See you there."

xXx

Just before leaving my room, I had glanced back at the closed laptop sitting on the nearly empty desk.

Maybe one day, I'll at least remember the password.

xXx

First of all, our Physical Education couldn't have had a worse teacher. He greeted us fine at the front doors of the gym, but as soon as the last kid filed in, he went into his office and immediately fell asleep at his desk.

"He's Greek," Alfred said, as if that explained everything.

The locker rooms were quite large. I quickly changed into my PE uniform in a safe corner (cotton t-shirt and basketball shorts) and headed out Eliza and the rest of her friends (an Asian girl and a very shy blonde girl with a lilac ribbon in her hair). The girl with the big bow in her long hair was also in my class, but she had exited long before us. The boys were already outside—all eight 'main' boys, Matthew sitting on the bleachers, and a few others. Males obviously dominated in quantity.

"Ready to play?" I asked, excited to get going.

Alfred got a strange twinkle in his eyes. He twirled a red rubber ball on his finger.

"Dodgeball," he declared.

And with that one word, it was war.

xXx

"Alright you two," Arthur said loudly. "Heads or tails?"

"Heads," Alfred quickly called.

"Tails," Ivan claimed, just as fast.

With the flip of a coin, Arthur took a peek at the quarter in his hand and declared, "Alfred goes first."

After a quick session of glares between the two adversaries, Alfred pointed directly at me. "Tope!" I obediently got up to stand by his side, avoiding Ivan's watchful eyes.

The Russian picked Ludwig. Much to the German's chagrin, Alfred chose Felice to be on his team. And so it went on, until every single person was accounted for (I had to actually walk out of line and drag Matthew on my side when no one noticed him sitting on the side). The teams were:

Alfred  
>Me<br>Felice  
>Kiku<br>Gilbert  
>Francis<br>Girl with purple ribbon  
>Matthew<p>

Ivan  
>Ludwig<br>Eliza  
>Romano<br>Arthur  
>Yao<br>Asian girl  
>Girl with big bow<p>

"This is gonna be a fast game," I commented to Matthew. "There's so little people."

The Canadian shrugged. "Who knows, it may or may not be." His eyes flickered towards the team on the other side of the court. "Be careful, Tope. Sometimes, dodgeball isn't just a game here. It's also a way for people to get even with each other." I followed the path of his cautious eyes and saw Ivan, squeezing the neck of his scarf uncomfortably, edging away from a girl with a big bow. Bow Girl had claimed his arm in a vice-like grip and was whispering something to him, eyes determined. I recognized her from this morning in the lounge.

Was it just me, or was she way too close to Ivan?

"Who's the girl next to Ivan?" I asked Matthew, unsure of the emotion building up inside me.

"Th-That's Natalya, Ivan's younger sister," he answered uncertainly. "She's…very attached to her brother."

I didn't know what surprised me more, the fact that Ivan had a younger sister or the weird feeling of relief that spread throughout me. Still confused, I asked, "How attached?"

"I-It's hard to explain," he admitted. "She's in love with her brother and keeps asking him to marry her, but Ivan doesn't want to."

"What?" I gasped. Leaning closer to him so no one could hear me, I said doubtfully, "She wants to _marry_ him? And she's his sister?"

He shrugged. "It's complicated. You'll understand if you have her in your classes. Just be careful around her. She's a little…"

"What's this, hmm?" a sly voice said behind us. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around my waist and Matthew's, drawing us close together. "And here I thought you preferred blondes, Mathieu."

"Francis!" I yelped, trying to pry his lecherous hands off my waist. "Off! What did I tell you about not touching me?"

"_Mon cheri, _the only thing I remember you moaning was my name—gack!" Francis choked, his arm releasing us. Firmly implanted in Francis' face was a red rubber ball.

"The game has started, Francis," Ivan said cheerfully.

Cue the long hour of flying dodgeballs and old rivalries.

xXx

"—and this is for flushing down all my fucking tea!" Arthur shouted, flinging his final dodgeball at Alfred's face. To everyone's surprise (or not), Alfred was laughing too hard to duck in time. The ball hit his chest and knocked him back, leaving him gasping for air.

"Ha!" Arthur laughed. "Take that, you American!"

His victory was short lived, however, once I beamed him.

And so the battle went on. Ivan caught my throw once, but I was 'saved' by Kiku a few minutes later. Unfortunately for us, Alfred's plan to use Felice as a shield backfired when he started to run around, begging to surrender. Ludwig yelled at him to stop being a coward and started throwing dodgeballs in a frenzy, but he ended up hitting everyone _but_ Felice. I managed to catch his throw and finally end the German menace.

In an hour, it was finally down to Kiku and I against Ivan and his sister, everyone else cheering for us on the side. My Japanese ally was dodging Ivan's powerful projectiles like a freaking ninja. Natalya wasn't so bad either, being just as scary as her brother; but instead of an evil smile, she wore a frighteningly serious expression. Every time she threw the ball at me (me and only me), she was aiming to kill.

Kiku cursed quietly when one of Ivan's throws finally clipped him. The ball hit his shoulder and flew into the air. Kiku was out, but I saw this as the perfect opportunity to exile Ivan from the game without throwing something at him. Jumping up in the air, I reached up with both arms and caught the ball, landing on the ground upright.

Grinning to myself for making a glorious catch, I missed the warning shout from Kiku.

"Tope-san!"

Looking up was a mistake. Immediately, my neck made a sickening _SLAP _sound as the hard red rubber ball slapped right underneath my chin. Dropping my earlier caught ball, my head snapped back, and I fell to the ground. The initial pain wasn't so bad, but my skin stung where the ball had struck me. I sat up and rubbed the back of my neck, a little embarrassed.

Lots of people rushed to my side, asking questions of concern. I grinned and shrugged them all off, insisting that I was fine. Ivan was the first one to take hold of my hand and pull me up.

"Are you okay?" he murmured. And somehow, his words reached through me far more than anyone else.

Giving him a look of assurance, I turned my head to lock eye contact with the girl who had finally beamed me. Natalya was glaring at me with icy eyes, her arms crossed over her chest. She seemed to be acutely aware of the hand that was still holding Ivan's.

I gave her my best smile and said, "Great throw! Good game."

Everyone fell silent as they looked between Natalya and me, waiting for a reaction from her. They were disappointed when she did nothing but give me a look of disdain and walked away.

"What's her problem?" Alfred wondered aloud.

xXx

"That was a great game!" Eliza said, giving me a high five. "Ha! Did you see Gilbo's face when I got him out? It was priceless!"

"You were great too, Lily," I said to the purple ribbon girl, who shyly thanked me.

A few minutes later, I was changed and ready to go. The game wasn't too vigorous, but I planned to shower in my own dorm. Outside of the locker room, I realized that I had left my keys in my locker.

"Shoot," I cursed. "You guys go ahead. I forgot my keys in the locker room."

Eliza and the other girls paused. "Do you want us to wait for you?"

"No, I'm going back to my dorm anyways. I'll see you at dinner!" I said, even as I was turning away.

"Okay! See you later, Tope!"

xXx

As I was rummaging around my locker for my dorm key (damn, where did I leave it?), a weird banging caught my attention.

"...she was too far away…I couldn't see…"

There was laughter, and the clanging sound faded away.

I frowned. That laughter sounded suspiciously like a certain Frenchman I knew, but maybe I was just hearing things. I dug around my locker, still trying to find my key.

"Looking for this?" a quiet voice said.

Surprised, I turned around. Standing there, my dorm keychain hanging around her finger, was Natalya, Ivan's little sister. Holding out a grateful hand, I was about to thank her when she suddenly grabbed my wrist, crushing it with her fingers.

To my shock, she pulled out an army knife from her pocket and held it against my neck.

"I told you to stay away from him," she hissed. "I won't warn you again."

My eyes widened. "You're the one who threatened me," I said, shocked.

The pressure on the knife grew more prominent. "You're nothing but trouble," she spat, ignoring me. "Stay the hell away from us."

Despite the threat, I felt a sense anger rise in my chest. I snatched her wrist with my hand, holding it tight. "Why should I?" I retorted.

My words seemed to aggravate her more. "Stay away from us," she said again.

"Make me," I mocked.

I flung her hand away even as she tore herself from me. There was a long minute of silence as we stared each other down, neither one of us relenting. Finally, Natalya tossed my dorm key to the ground and pocketed her knife, turning her back on me and walking away. I kept a cautious eye on her until she was outside, waiting until the sound of her footsteps disappeared.

I sighed heavily. Really, what did I do to deserve her malice?

Too many curiosities. Picking up my dorm key from the ground, I put it safe in my skirt pocket and closed my locker.

xXx

Ivan surprised me (yet again) by grabbing my hand as soon as I reached the auditorium doors, pulling me inside and guiding me to a seat not quite near the others, but close enough so I could see them. He sat me down on the end and took the comfy, wine-red chair next to me.

"You can let go now," I said to him, pulling away from his freezing cold grip. Was my face red from the cold or his insistent touch? Somewhere, I felt a pair of sharp eyes burning holes in my back.

Ivan's face turned to me, violet eyes flashing. "_Nyet_. Your hands are cold." Taking my hand with both of his so that I couldn't let go, he gently breathed warm air between my fingers. The rush of heat quickly defrosted them. I felt a different kind of warmth rise in my cheeks.

"Give me your other hand," he said, already reaching for it.

I hid it away from him, saying, "No thanks. I'm warm, thank you." It was true. I was warm all over with embarrassment.

As if reading my thoughts, he smirked. "Suit yourself," he said, before turning his attention to Headmaster Rome onstage.

"Good evening!" the Headmaster boomed cheerfully, his amplified voice echoing. I looked around at the large auditorium and the surprisingly small amount of students that hardly filled its seats. There was a main balcony above us and two separate show balconies on the wall. Every chair was velvety red and soft. The carpets and curtains were a rich, wine-red and endlessly deep.

_People must come to see performances from this school, if we have such a large auditorium_, I thought.

"Alrightie, so we've rounded you all up here to explain the rules for the Christmas Eve Contest!" Headmaster said, grinning from ear to ear. "This will be a very simple performance competition! Everyone here has to participate and bring something interesting to the stage on Christmas Eve! You can do anything, as long as your performance mentions Christmas. Or the holidays, if you're against Christianity," he added. "Your faculty and staff will be judging and sending in multiple votes for our favorite performances.

"Some things you can do, but are not limited to, are dances, skits, songs, paintings, artworks, videos, poems, speeches—your only two requirements are that you must mention the holidays and, or Christmas, and that…you have to work with a partner!"

I heard immediate groans and gasps of anticipation in the crowd of students. A friendly holiday competition? Working with a partner? Interesting.

"For the pair that gets the third most amount of votes, we have a $50 gift card to any store in the mall. Second place will get a $50 gift card and a pass to skip one day of school. First place will receive a $50 gift card, a one-day-skip-school pass, and…a seat for each on the School Council, if they choose to accept it."

His last sentence brought silence to the auditorium. I looked around and saw everyone staring at the Headmaster intently, many with a strange look in their eyes. Ivan's mouth was curving into a slow smile, I noticed.

"What's the School Council?" I whispered to him so softly that no one could hear.

The creepy smile never went away (then again, does it ever?), but he leaned down to tell me, "They are a council of teachers that makes all the decisions for this school. They are very, very powerful."

Taking another look around, the realization came to me. If the World Academy was to be compared to the Earth itself, and there was a council that decided everything about the world, then wouldn't people desire to gain a seat on that council? The School Council was obviously very, very powerful. And who better to compete seriously than those who hungered for power?

I, myself, didn't really care for gaining power. But there _was_ something in me that desired to win…for the sake of competition.

Headmaster Rome grinned, enjoying the absolute attention. "If you have any questions, see me in my office later on," he continued. "For now, we will decide your partners." He walked to a podium planted at the edge of the stage and pulled out a big, colorful box. "I'll pull out random names and read them aloud. Pay attention! Here are your partners!"

I scoffed. So _this_ was the reason why he wanted to hold an assembly. The Headmaster wanted to reveal our partners dramatically and watch our reactions.

For the next ten minutes, everyone sat in silence, listening and waiting for their names to be called out. After a while, some eventually got bored and conversed quietly with their friends. Ivan began to play with my hair. I was too tired to stop him.

As the old man read off names, I quickly realized that the student body was generally silent, but there were momentary lapses of _silence_. Particular names induced utter quietness as their partners were revealed. I nearly laughed at the expression on Francis' face when it was announced that Ludwig was his partner. Kiku was partnered with the pretty Asian girl I saw earlier, Arthur was with Matthew, Felice was with Eliza, Yao was with Romano, and Alfred was with…

…Ivan.

You can imagine the deathly hush that fell over the auditorium then. I wondered if Headmaster Rome was somehow pulling the strings behind the scenes.

"It's okay, Ivan," I whispered to him. His eyes were dark and glittering. "Just don't kill each other on stage, and maybe you'll win."

He frowned and was about to say something, when suddenly: "Tope!"

All gazes resting upon Headmaster Rome intensified. Even I quieted myself.

Fiddling with a piece of paper, he slowly opened it up and briefly looked at the name. His eyebrows shot up.

"Your partner is Natalya Arlovskaya."


	15. Chapter 14: Perfect Idea

For once, Ivan could think of nothing to say. The mere mention of his sister's name brought about a wave of pure terror upon him, paralyzing him with fear. _Poor Tope_, he mourned. Hardly a week back and she was about to face one of the most dangerous perils in the world—his younger sister.

Tope, on the other hand, was only slightly disappointed. How was she going to win the contest if her partner hated every fiber of her being? She didn't exactly like Ivan's sister either, but then again, they hadn't met on good terms. Tope sighed. What was she supposed to do now?

xXx

Later, in the lounge with her friends: "Why does Natalya hate me?"

Everyone fell silent, except for Alfred. The American shot a glare at Ivan, who was startled yet again at the sound of his sister's name. "It's 'cause the commie keeps sticking with you," Alfred said, eyes as sharp and accusing as a hawk. "I think he should just leave us all the hell alone."

"You never told me you had a younger sister," Tope said to Ivan.

To her surprise, his eyes suddenly darkened. "Well, I don't have to tell you everything about my life, do I?"

Tope was taken aback. The surprise must've been apparent on her face, because Felice placed his hands on hers, saying, "Ve, are you okay?"

Ivan's eyes trailed down to where Felice had his hand over Tope's, and they narrowed minutely. His stomach lurched sickeningly and his jaw clenched. _Jealousy_, he grimly realized. _It was happening again._ It took all of his self-taught control to keep from lunging forward and throwing the cowardly, unworthy Italian into the wall (a feat he was most certainly capable of).

But why now, when it was Tope and not Utopia? Why did he have these feelings for the second time—for two people that looked the same, but were completely different?

Abruptly, the Russian stood up from the couch, startling the Chinese next to him. Without a word, he stalked off to his room.

Tope watched him leave in silence. After a while, she sighed and got up from the couch. "I'm going up. Does anyone know what room Natalya's in?"

The boys looked at one another. Alfred said, "I dunno. I never see her in the building."

"Ve, she stays in Miss Katyusha's room~"

Alfred shot a glare at Felice, but said, "It's just a rumor."

The glare went unnoticed. "_Andiamo!_" the Italian cheered, starting to pull Tope. "I can show you which room Miss Katyusha's in!"

Before he could lead Tope away, Arthur dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder. Felice jumped in surprise, "Eep!"

"Just a moment there, lad. You don't mind if we have a quick chat, do you?"

Tope narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Why do you suddenly feel the need to talk to Felice, Arthur?" She took Felice by his sleeve and tugged him away.

Arthur looked pained. "Just a quick chat, Tope. Nothing serious."

"You certainly look serious."

There was a long moment of silence as Arthur and Tope stared each other down. Finally, Tope sighed. "Okay, whatever," she snapped. "You go have your secret meeting without me. I'm going to bed."

Arthur felt bad as he watched her open the door to the stairs and disappear behind its mechanisms. But he steeled himself and whirled on Felice, hissing, "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

The small Italian winced. "S-Si? I was just—"

"Leading her to her death?" interrupted Alfred, eyes dead serious. "That Russian witch—"

"Belorussian, aru."

"—yeah, whatever. That Russian witch hates Tope almost as much as she loves her brother. You didn't stop to think that if Tope visits her room, that the crazy witch lady would try to hurt her?"

Feliciano was on the edge of tears from the sudden assault by the American, but he managed to whisper, "I was just helping her."

Alfred threw his hands up in the air helplessly. "Yeah, well you're not!"

Ludwig finally came to the aid of his friend. With a warning in his eyes, his voice rumbled, "I don't understand why you're getting so worked up about this, Jones. Tope is perfectly capable of defending herself from any danger in this school. Besides, Miss Katyusha will also be in the room. Natalya wouldn't jeopardize bringing unhappiness to her elder sister."

"And how do you know that, huh, Luddy?" Alfred jeered. "If you cared for her now half as much as you used to during the second war, you'd be worried, too. Oh wait, I'm sorry. You never really cared for her, did you? It was just a sad, sick obsession."

"_Verdammit!_" Ludwig exploded, his fist coming down on the coffee table. The German's blue eyes were hard sapphires. Everyone but Alfred winced. "Why are you so immature? Stop acting like a whiny bitch and shut up!"

"I'm not acting like a whiny bitch!"

Suddenly, the door to the stairs opened, and out walked the very girl in question. Everyone froze, and Tope blinked in surprise before falling back into an irritated expression.

"I dropped my key," she said, walking back over to the table and snatching the fallen key. "What's with you guys? You're all so quiet." Without waiting for an answer, she exited the room for a second time just as swiftly as she had arrived.

Kiku released a haggled sigh. "I am sorry, please excuse me. Things are much too tense here." Then, as if someone had dismissed them, the boys all got up and went off on their own.

Alfred bit his lip, the thoughts running through his head like a never ending stream.

xXx

Closing the 4th floor stair door behind her, Tope sighed. The argument she had eavesdropped on wasn't helpful at all. She already discerned that Natalya was dangerously obsessed with her brother. In fact, that was probably the reason why the girl hated her so much, since Ivan had always seemed to hold a particular interest in her. _But why?_ And how was she supposed to deal with something like this? The facts were muddy and unclear, like a room obscured by smoke. If only she could wave her hands to clear it up a little and maybe...

Tope winced and bit her lip; her head was starting to hurt. Thinking this way was pushing it too far. It felt like all the weight of the world was easing in on her mind, growing more insistent by the second. Like lightning, a mental image of a bright sunflower popped up in her head, and then the picture was gone; and with it, the headache.

Tope breathed out slowly, rolling her neck and stretching her shoulders. That was closest she'd ever gotten to remembering.

"T-Tope?" a timid voice echoed down the hall. Tope turned around to see a familiar face walking down the hall towards her.

"Atlantis!" she greeted, grateful for the company. "I haven't seen you around very much."

Atlantis smiled sheepishly. "Well, I kinda see you around. But there just hasn't been enough time to talk to you, since your friends always hang out around you."

Tope rolled her eyes. "Right, those idiots."

Atlantis watched with careful eyes as her friend hit her back to the wall and slid down a foot. "Is there something wrong?"

Tope looked away for a second, and then back. "The boys were arguing again. Alfred and Arthur don't want me to do the Christmas Eve contest with Natalya. I personally think that they're over reacting, but they seemed so worried. But still..."

Atlantis was silent for a moment, and then in a quiet, irritated voice Tope had never heard her use before, she murmured, "They don't control you, Tope."

The once shy and timid Atlantis was gone and replaced by a tall, mysterious stranger—familiarly quiet, yet powerful in essence. Her eyes were as deep as the depths of the ocean; her hair, like underwater fire. The young woman stood like a queen with a storm in her eyes.

"S-Sorry?" Tope stuttered, unprepared for the sudden change in character.

For the first time, Atlantis looked at her directly in the eyes, her expression slightly irritated. "Those boys may represent their country by being at this academy, but we represent something different—something more powerful than anything they could ever imagine. I am Atlantis, and whether you accept it or not, you are Utopia." Her eyes lightened a little. "They do not control you, Tope. And they never will."

Tope sunk lower against the wall, letting Atlantis' words echo deep inside her mind. Something did heat up in the pit of her stomach—an inward fire of something unexplainable. She chuckled to herself, finding the feeling enjoyable.

"You know," she said, looking at Atlantis, "you're really scary."

The redhead smiled ruefully. "I'll take that as a compliment." Her whole figure seemed to relax and Atlantis reverted back to her usual self. "You look like you're feeling better."

Tope heaved herself off the wall. "Yup!" she said. "Thanks, Atlantis. I never knew you were so deep." Tope grinned widely at her companion.

Atlantis' cheeks tinged a little pink. "Th-Thanks. But I hardly ever act like that. I don't know, it just comes out sometimes."

"Well, I think that that side of you is badass and cool." She paused. "Of course, I think I would rather have a nice, shy Atlantis than a scary one."

"Don't be scared," her friend teased.

"Hey," Tope said. "You wanna show me where Miss Ukraine's room is?"

Atlantis rolled her eyes.

"I'm more than certain that you'll figure it out yourself."

And Tope agreed with Atlantis. In the teacher's lounge, Miss Ukraine's room was one of the only ones with a name plate on it. Her door was a happy blue with cute floral embellishments along the frame of the woodwork.

Tope quietly knocked on the door.

"Just a second!" sang a familiar voice. After another minute or so, the quiet blue door opened to reveal Miss Ukraine in a long yellow nightgown. Her chest was bulging in the light material and her short hair was damp from a bath.

Her eyes widened a little when she saw Tope standing there, and it looked like she was a little disappointed.

"Good evening, Tope," she said cheerily all the same. "What brings you here tonight? I thought curfew had already passed."

There's a curfew? Tope thought. "I'm so sorry for bothering you, Miss Ukraine, but is—"

"It's okay, sweetheart. You can call me Katyusha," the woman interrupted. "Oh! I'm sorry, go on."

"It's fine. Anyways, I was wondering if Natalya was here. I need to talk to her about the Christmas Eve contest."

Miss Katyusha's eyes widened in surprise once more. There was a moment of hesitation in her eyes, but eventually she turned inside and called, "Natalya, there's someone here to see you."

The room offered no reply. Katyusha smiled sheepishly and said, "Come in."

She pushed the door open to let Tope in the room, but a quick, pale hand stopped her from the inside.

"Excuse me," Natalya murmured to her sister as she placed her hand firmly on the doorknob. First her bow came into view, and then her sour face. She locked eyes with Tope. "What do you want?"

Tope was unaffected by her unfriendly tone, but Katyusha's eyebrows scrunched together worriedly. "Natalya, that's no way to talk to others," she scolded.

Her younger sister seemed to sigh a little. "Outside,"' she commanded rather than said to her contest partner.

Once Katyusha was behind the door, Natalya turned on her. "What?" she snapped. "I told you to stay away from me."

"I wanted to know when we can get together to get ready for the contest."

Natalya stared at Tope as if she was stupid. "I'm not going to compete with you."

"Why not?"

"Because I hate you."

"Give me a different reason."

"I need no other reason."

Tope pursed her lip. This conversation wasn't going where she wanted it to go. "Please?" she asked. "Work with me? Even if you hate me, don't you want to win?"

"No."

"Come on, just for the sake of competition?"

"What part of no do you not understand, you stupid girl?"

"Every part."

Natalya scoffed and without warning, she shut the door right in Tope's face.

Tope narrowed her eyes, but her determination never faltered.

"I'm not giving up until you agree to work with me," Tope called through the door. After giving it another few good seconds of silence, she turned to leave.

xXx

Early next morning, Tope bounded down the steps to breakfast. She grabbed a bowl full of cereal and climbed the steps to the balcony, only to find a surprising figure sitting in a corner, sipping on warm broth. It was Natalya, warming herself up with a gentle brew.

"Good morning!" Tope said cheerily.

Natalya's head snapped up, her lips already curled in disdain. If looks could kill, Tope would've been dead twelve times over by the time she sat down across from Natalya. Otherwise, the Belorussian said nothing.

"So, I was thinking about the contest last night," Tope started, mixing her hot chocolate around, enjoying the heat that tickled her fingertips. "Maybe we do some kind of skit or play. Or a story about the snow, or making presents."

Still no response.

"What about your Christmas experiences? Sorry, I don't remember any of my own." When Natalya was silent once more, Tope said a little more determinedly, "If you don't like any of my ideas, you can suggest one."

"I'm not working with you," Natalya finally said. "The contest is stupid. It's pointless."

"I just think you're scared to lose," Tope challenged. "I bet that you actually want to win." She wracked her brain for more arguments. "Come on, don't you wanna win the free gift card? Or a seat on the Council?"

"No. Not if I have to work with you and your stupid ideas."

Rather than being discouraged, Tope's expression brightened. "So, if I think of a really good idea, you'll work with me?"

"No."

"Aww, what if it's a great idea?"

"All of your ideas are stupid." She took a sip of her coffee and added an extra glare to Tope's collection of glares.

"Okay then," Tope replied easily. "I'll come up with the greatest idea ever, and you'll have to help me follow it through."

Natalya's coffee cup came down a little harder than necessary. "Why are you being so insistent about this?" she said angrily. "What's so good about winning this stupid contest?"

"I just want to win," Tope said. "You ever get that feeling that you just _want_ something to happen, and you'll do anything to achieve it? It's kinda weird, but I feel like this is something I need to do."

Natalya said nothing for a long moment, and then she finally picked up her food tray and walked away.

Tope sighed, gazing at the spot Natalya had just been in. She would come up with an idea that even Natalya couldn't deny! She would!

But what would melt her cold heart? Should it be a heartwarming song? Or a depressing painting? Or maybe just a simple narrative? Tope tried to list the things that were important to Natalya. Big bow accessories? Her hair and clothes? No, it would be hard to write a poem only about getting a new blue dress for Christmas.

Wait, wasn't she in love with Ivan?

Tope nearly slapped herself. Well, duh! It should be something about her family! _Family_, she realized, _was Natalya's most important thing in the world._ Even if she loved Ivan more than brother and had a sister that looked like a magnet for trouble in its nastiest form, the Belorussian was intent on keeping her siblings away from anything that jeopardized them. For some reason, she thought that Tope was the threat this time. But she couldn't think about that now. Tope just had to come up with an exceptional way of expressing family in time for Christmas Eve...

"Good morning, Tope," a polite voice jolted her out of her thoughts. Arthur was up bright and early, spick n' span in his neat uniform. He had a small tray of biscuits and hot tea.

"Good morning," Tope replied. "Did you sleep okay? You look a little tired."

Arthur smirked ruefully. "I slept quite well actually, with that bloody frog knocked out cold from his wine."

Tope raised an eyebrow. "Does he drink every night?"

"Some nights, and only during vacation." Arthur eyed Tope's finished breakfast. "I see you're up a bit early. Couldn't sleep again?"

"I guess so," Tope said lightly. "Hey, you know about Ivan's family?"

Arthur's posture stiffened. "His family? Yes, what about them?"

"Like, what can you tell me about them?"

The Brit hesitated. "What would you like to know? There's very little that anyone knows about that particular family."

"Well, do you know anything about their relationships with each other? I heard that Ivan is scared of his little sister, but I don't know why," she added a little lie at the end.

Arthur sighed heavily. "I'm not really one for gossip, but perhaps this is an exception." He cleared his throat. "The three siblings are, from eldest to youngest, Miss Katyusha, Ivan, and Natalya—the latter two being the mental siblings. The two sisters are close in their own way, whereas Ivan's relationship with them is a bit more offhand. Miss Katyusha is like a mother to them both, but she distances herself from them. Natalya's even more insane than her brother. She's constantly pressuring Ivan to marry her, and she's not very pleasant in her methods of asking. Once, she had Ivan cornered in the gymnasium attic for hours before he finally ripped a hole in the wall and jumped down."

Tope whistled and smiled, despite herself. "That's intense. Is there a reason why she's so...persistent?"

Arthur scoffed, "Who knows how that woman thinks? It's more important to stay out of her way while she rambles on after her brother, waving knives around like a menace."

Suddenly, Tope burst up from the small glass table. "I've got it!" she exclaimed. She gathered her rubbish and dirty plates, excitedly rushing to toss them away. Arthur stared after her in confusion as she pivoted clearly on the tiled floor and burst down the stairs.

xXx

"Natalya!" she called, knocking on the door for what must have been the twentieth time. "Come on, I know you're in there. I saw you walk out the door and back in."

No reply.

"I just had an epiphany. You're not gonna just let my brilliant idea die, are you? Come on, you'll love it! Just listen, please?"

"How can I not listen when you're shouting at the door?" a voice angrily snapped.

"So you are there!"

"Leave, damn it!"

"Make me!" Tope retorted.

Immediately, the door was thrown open. Natalya advanced two steps outside and held a knife up at Tope's throat. "You asked for it..."

"What if I told you," Tope interrupted, "that my skit involves killing me?"

Natalya paused. "What?"

Relief and excitement sent shivers down her spine, but Tope did her best to hide it. "I made up a skit for the both of us, and Miss Katyusha too, if she wants to help."

"Do I get to kill you?"

"Sort of, yeah…in a sense. And not literally, of course."

"..."

"I assure you, when we win, the kill will be just as satisfying."

"I doubt it."

"At least let me explain the story?" Tope said hopefully, but not too hopefully. "Just give me ten minutes."

"...you have five."


	16. Chapter 15: Cooperation Would Be Nice

_"I never really liked oranges."_

xXx

My eyes snapped open. Heart pounding and goosebumps prickling my skin, a sudden, terrifying need to find a mirror overwhelmed me. Immediately, I scrambled out of bed and ran straight to the bathroom. I switched on the bright, fluorescent light and stared intensely and the reflection that stared back.

Deep, dark-wood hair glimmered quietly. Dark, amber-glass eyes searched madly all over the mirror, trying to find something—anything—that seemed off. It was a few minutes before I calmed down. I realized that I didn't even know what I was looking for anymore.

Splashing water on my face was enough to wake me up. I brushed my long, thick hair and tried to remember the dream I just had. There must've been another person in it, because I could recall a quiet, monotonous voice: _"I never really liked oranges."_ Then there was something shiny and long, like a window. I laughed uncertainly. The more I thought about it, the more ridiculous the dream seemed to me.

But the one thing I did remember was that I had been scared. I had been very scared.

xXx

_"Tomorrow in the library, for an hour. _Only_ an hour,"_ Natalya had said. No doubt, the girl had better things to do than discuss the means of our extremely important performance when we hardly had a day to prepare. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and everywhere, I saw signs of people getting ready. Students were running in and out of dorms, laughing and flinging paint at each other. Down one hallway, I heard someone playing a flute. Down another was the sound of pots and pans banging.

I traveled from the dorms to the parking lot where a friendly white van was waiting for me near the school curb. Checking my pocket to confirm that I didn't forget my wallet, I jogged up to the van and knocked on the passenger door.

"Hello, Tope," rumbled Ludwig.

"Good morning," I replied, climbing inside.

Ludwig started the engine and we pulled out of the school parking lot. I glanced at the mirror, just in case a psycho teacher decided to run at us with a handgun and start shooting. Fortunately, no one else was in the parking lot, and soon it was just Ludwig and I on the highway, making our way down to the mall. Last night's conversation came to mind:

_"Ludwig! Are you doing anything tomorrow morning?"_

_"Um…no."_

_"So, you and Francis finished with your contest preparations and stuff?"_

_"We're putting things together tomorrow after lunch. Why are you asking me this?"_

_"Uhh, because I wanted to ask if you could please, please drive me to the mall tomorrow morning? I didn't get to buy any Christmas presents for you guys…"_

_"Uh…I—think I can take you." _He had nodded._ "_Ja_, I can."_

_"Awesome! What time can you take me?"_

_"Anytime after six."_

_"…that's pretty early. How about I meet you in the parking lot at…6:45?"_

_"Sure."_

And so here we were, in the white van, driving at unspeakable speeds on the highway to the mall for Christmas presents.

"Do you have any money for yourself?" Ludwig asked, just as we pulled into the mall driveway.

"Yeah, I found some in my wallet. I also found a debit card. I hope there's money on that, too."

"Will it be enough? I'm sorry, but I won't be able to help you money-wise."

"It's okay, I have enough." I eyed the few hundred bills safely tucked in their pocket. "How do students get so much money?"

Ludwig directed the car to park in reverse. "The school gives allowances to students depending on their finals, which is why studying for the best grades is vital. You can also earn money by winning awards or working out of school."

"Interesting… Did Utopia work out of school?"

"_Nein_, she didn't have to. She always got perfect marks on her exams."

My spirits fell. "Oh, she did?"

"_Ja_. She was the top in everything."

I rolled my eyes. _Little Miss Perfect._

xXx

Skimming down my mental list, I checked off the presents that I had bought so far. There was a bag of bowties and a package of angel hair for Felice; a manga artbook for Kiku; gift cards for McDonalds and a video game store for Al; a tin canister full of fresh tea for Arthur; books for Ludwig (including _Math for Dummies _to help him tutor Felice); rich chocolates for Francis; an adorable Hello Kitty pillow for Yao; a new red hoodie for Matthew; and as promised, a sunflower and a bottle of pure vodka for Ivan (Ludwig bought the alcohol, because he looked a lot older than me).

A couple of hours of roaming around, and I finally finished shopping. Ludwig was reading on a bench when I walked up to him, a decent amount of bags hanging from my arms.

"Hi!" I said. "I'm done."

Ludwig looked up and closed his book. Without a word, he took all the bags in my right hand and made a move to take the rest in my left, but I pulled away and shook my head.

"I can carry these. Thank you, Ludwig."

"You're welcome," he replied.

xXx

"You're late," came a venomous hiss.

Natalya was sitting in a chair, eyes narrowed, long nails tapping impatiently on the wooden library table.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was hardly five minutes past our pre-planned time, but I hesitated to point this out to her. Though we were far from being friends, she had agreed to cooperate—and I didn't want to jeopardize that cooperation.

"I'm sorry," I said, not offering any excuses because she would just brush them off anyways (wrapping the boys' presents took longer than I thought, and I still hadn't finished with Ivan's!). Taking a seat on the chair next to her, I handed her a piece of paper. "This is the script. You can change it however you want."

Natalya hardly even glanced at it. "It's corny."

"…okay then, what do you want to do to change it?"

"I don't want to do it at all."

A frustrated sigh escaped me. "Okay. Is the story itself alright? We can just change the script around."

"The story makes sense," she allowed. "But I don't see how this has anything to do with the holidays."

"It takes place during the holidays."

"It's too depressing for the holidays."

"The holidays aren't necessarily a time for joy. It's a time for family and friends, and togetherness."

"_Where_ exactly in this skit is the concept of 'togetherness'?"

"At the very end." Natalya gave me a doubtful look. More determinedly, I said, "Look, this skit has drama, action, and talent. It's not your average Christmas story. I'm pretty sure that everyone else is gonna sing Christmas Carols or paint a pretty picture. What we're doing is…something different. We're telling a story that's raw and emotional and _real_. I guarantee that this'll get us first place."

This was when her eyes narrowed.

"My brother wants to get first place," she said pompously.

I wanted to shout, _'SO DO I!' _But an outburst—no matter how well-deserved—wouldn't solve anything.

"What if," I said, giving it some thought, "you won and gave up your Council seat to your brother?"

She shook her head. "They do not allow methods like that."

"Then hope that he has a better performance than us. Don't you have enough faith in your brother? Or do you doubt his abilities to win?"

"I have _complete _faith in my brother," she said defensively. "It's the _American_ that will make him lose.

"Alfred is perfectly capable of putting in his fair share of the work—"

"He is dimwitted and fat."

"He's energetic and smarter than you think!"

_"SHHH!"_ someone hushed from downstairs. Their voice broke us out of our private argument. I realized how long we had been there, just glaring at each other and not working on our skit.

"Fine," I finally huffed. "Alfred's stupid, and your brother will lose."

"He will not!" Natalya hissed.

"Then what's to worry about?" I demanded. For once, the girl hesitated. I pounced right on her. "He could win, or he could lose. Will it matter either way? If _we_ win and you take a seat on the Council or whatevers, then your brother can make all the decisions through you! Then you and Ivan can spend all the time you want together, planning out the future of the universe. You can be your brother's little puppet for as long as you want." She and I looked at each other in the eye. "I don't care what you do after with the Council or your brother, but I will _not_ let you just _quit_ on our performance."

I crossed my arms and leaned back in my seat, waiting for Natalya to respond. Her icy eyes dared me to blink first, but I was determined to win this. She didn't say anything for the longest time, until…

"Fine," she said. "But we don't use your script. My sister will provide background music, and it will be a skit without words."

My mouth curved into a smile before I could stop it. "Thank you," I grinned.

Natalya ignored that. She picked up the script and scanned the list of props.

"…I won't be cleaning up the stage after we're done."

"Fair enough."

xXx

After finalizing the details with Natalya, I headed straight to my room to wrap Christmas presents. Music from my speakers filled my room as soon as I walked in. Singing along, uncaring whether anyone could hear so long as I could relieve some left over stress, I journeyed all around the room in search of supplies that would help me in wrapping presents.

Lost in the music and hands busy, I didn't hear the visitor at my door until there was a loud, thunderous pounding.

I quickly hid the presents in the bathroom and turned down the music.

Alfred was at the door, and he looked exasperated.

"I was knocking forever!" he complained. "Come on! We're late for dinner!"

Behind him, Kiku was blushing in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, that he was hitting your door so hard, Tope-san," he apologized immediately. "But there will be an announcement in the dining hall soon."

I gave them both a sheepish grin, saying, "Sorry, I had my music on," while running back inside to grab a jacket for the cold. I locked the door behind me and we hurried to the dining hall.

We were just in time, too, because as soon as we raced to the top of the stairs, the TV by the couches had just switched from the school's logo to a view of Headmaster Rome.

"_Good-a evening!_" he greeted cheerily. "_I hope that everyone is ready for Christmas Eve tomorrow! I have a list of-a times when we will be judging your entries. From 3:30 P.M. to 4 P.M., we'll be judging all paintings, drawings, sculptures, and visual art in the auditorium. From 4 to 5, it's spoken word, stories, poems, and videos. After that, we'll have our live performances—singing, dancing, music, and skits._

"_To save time and judge as quickly as possible, please have your preparations in the auditorium an hour before you perform or take a seat_." The Headmaster winked. "_I hope-a that you all enjoy tomorrow's competition! Good luck to you all! Buona notte!_"

With that, the old man signed off and the TV switched back to its regular channel.

xXx

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Hallo, again. Just a quick note to my FF readers:**

**I'm actually a Quizilla user, and I'm known for notoriously long updates. xD Well, kinda. Please don't expect quick updates. :) Also, if there's something wrong/bad with the formatting then please contact me! That is all. Thank you for reading, everyone~! :)))**


	17. Chapter 16: He Sings?

_"I never really liked oranges."_

_"Why? Oranges are nice and sweet."_

_"I just…never really liked oranges. Is there something wrong with that?"_

_"No… I don't think there is…"_

xXx

_Damn it_, I cursed, splashing water on my exhausted face. It was the same dream again, the one that I was supposed to be afraid of, but I could never remember it once I woke up. Oranges, oranges—what was so scary about oranges that I had to have nightmares about it?

Water dripping down my chin, I stared at my reflection, almost as if waiting for something.

Eventually, I turned away from the mirror. My foot bumped something on the floor, and I realized that the boys' Christmas presents were still on the ground.

Picking up the plastic bag with Ivan's unwrapped sunflower and vodka, I decided that I might as well finish my Christmas preparations early . I didn't get very far, though, because the bottom of the bag was caught on something on the tiled floor. Frowning, I tugged the bag until it ripped free and placed it on the side, crouching down to examine what had gotten it stuck in the first place.

Somehow, a small piece of plastic had gotten caught under the corner of a tile. While slipping the scrap free, the tile shifted in place. Getting a little excited for a discovery so early in the morning, I pushed all the presents aside and tried to pick the tile free.

It took a few minutes, but I was finally able to ease the loose tile from its placement. Hidden in the secret compartment was a bunch of white packing peanuts. Curious, I dug around inside of it. My hand hit something solid, and I pulled it out.

It was a leather-bound book, hardly taller than the palm of my hand, about an inch thick. I flipped it over and read the name on the front cover—

**UTOPIA**

—and immediately dropped as if I had touched something vile.

U-Utopia?

I sat there for the longest time, staring at the journal sitting innocently atop packing peanuts, hardly believing what I saw. I—She kept a journal? Why the hell was it hidden under the _bathroom floor_?

I winced, feeling another headache creeping upon me. Curling in on myself, a wave of pain collided with the density of a building. Blackness swam before my eyes—I saw the surface of something light and wood—and suddenly the pain was gone.

As soon as I could move again, I slid the tile over the journal and compartment alike, moving the presents over it all so that I couldn't see it anymore. I stood up from the ground, closed the bathroom door, and got dressed.

Taking everything I needed to survive the day, I left the dorm room—determined not to go back anytime soon.

xXx

Bowl of cereal in hand (iced tea in the other), I found Matthew sitting by himself on the balcony.

"Hi, Mattie," I said, approaching him. "Can I sit here?"

"Good morning. Of course you can," he said quietly, a smile on his face.

I took a seat across from him and started munching on my cereal. We ate in silence.

Utopia's journal was sitting under the surface of my bathroom floor. What was I supposed to do with it? I could already feel the curiosity slowly creeping upon me. But if I read it, then would my memories come back? I was already having random headaches and pictures flashing through my mind—what would happen if I remembered all at once? Even if I didn't get a massive headache that split my skull in half, I would at least learn _some_ things about my previous life. It was a journal after all, wasn't it? I nodded to myself. Yes, I was sure it was a journal.

So, should I read it when I got back? Or should I just throw the book away? Oh, why did this have to happen now of all times? With tonight's performance on my mind, I was hoping to have a _relaxing_ Christmas Eve with my friends.

Okay, maybe I was over thinking this too much. But my melodrama aside, something about that journal unnerved me. I didn't want to read it.

"Tope?" Matthew's voice jolted me out of my reverie. He looked at me with concerned violet eyes. "You're not eating anymore. Are you feeling okay?"

I blinked. My bowl was half full with soggy cereal bits. I grimaced and pushed the bowl away.

"I didn't have enough sleep last night," I said. To my surprise, Matthew wasn't convinced.

"You don't look tired," he said.

"Really?" I said skeptically. "Then what do I look like?"

"You look like you're thinking too hard." His eyebrows drew together worriedly. "Is your head okay? It's only been a week and a half, but if your head is hurting, then…"

I shook my head (vigorously, to make my point). "I'm fine. I'm just stressed about today's performance. You're with Arthur, aren't you? How is your contest entry going?"

"Arthur was talking about dropping out," Matthew said, "But I think I've got a good idea on what to do." (_"If he doesn't keep forgetting who is partner is,"_ he muttered_._)

I gave a small laugh. "Less competition for us if you two drop out, I guess. What about Alfred and Ivan? Are they dropping out?"

His smile turned rueful. "They both want to win, but they just can't work together. I don't know what they're planning to do, but they're definitely not dropping out. What about you and Natalya? Are you two doing okay?"

"I'm happy to say that I think we really have a chance to win this."

"She's not, um, trying to hurt you?"

"For now—no. But after this contest? I don't know," I said truthfully.

"Well, if she ever tries something serious, then either come to our room or go to Ivan's."

"Why Ivan's? Wouldn't that make her madder?"

"Ivan's room is probably the safest out of all of us." Matthew leaned in to whisper. "He has locks and bolts on his door to keep his sister out."

I tried to think back and remember if there had been locks on Ivan's door, but the memory slipped my mind. "I wish I could do something about Natalya and Ivan."

Matthew looked flabbergasted. "What would you do?"

"They just seem to have a complicated relationship. Isn't it sad that Ivan's afraid of his own sister?"

"Natalya's not exactly the best little sister ever."

"She loves him, and that's all that counts," I said, though very unsure. "Anyways! We should stop talking about her and Ivan." I laughed nervously. "Who knows, Natalya's probably listening in on everything I'm saying right now."

My comment made us both freeze. We looked around for any sign of the Belorussian but found none.

"Right," Mattie said, finishing the rest of his pancakes. "Do you want to hang out in our dorm until we have to go to the auditorium?"

I thought back to my own room and the _thing_ that awaited under the bathroom floor.

"Absolutely."

xXx

~~~3rd POV~~~

Five fun-filled hours later, Tope found herself reluctantly standing in front of her door, knowing full well that she had to get inside, yet unable to ignore the chills creeping down her spine.

Down the hall, Natalya was just around the corner, watching her with dark blue eyes. She had already been to the auditorium, but had to turn back to track down Tope due to a required sign-in sheet for contest participants. And now, she was on the fourth floor of the dormitory building, staring in disbelief as her _partner_ gripped the handle of her door, making no move to actually open it.

_What the hell is she doing?_ Natalya felt the familiar urge to pull a knife on her. _Why are you just standing there?_

Tope—who felt another headache coming on—took a deep breath and finally turned the handle. She paused for a moment, and then went inside. Natalya slid out from her hiding spot and walked to the open door.

"You can do this," she heard Tope mutter. "…it's just a stupid book… Books can't hurt you…"

"Monster in your closet?" Natalya interrupted.

Tope jumped two feet away from the bathroom door. She saw Natalya leaning against the frame of her door, already showered and dressed for the performance.

_The performance!_ Tope nearly slapped herself. _Get yourself together, ya stoop! What time is it? How long was I standing there?_

"I'm afraid so," she replied, heading over to the closet to grab her outfit. "Is there enough time for me to take a shower?"

Natalya's expression of non-expression remained the same.

"No. We're late."

Tope pulled a small pile of clothes out and ran to the bathroom.

"Perfect. I'll be out in a few minutes."

The Belorussian at the door sighed, her lip curled up slightly in disdain. Arms crossed over her chest, she made her way inside the room, stopping at the window to look over the winter fantasy that covered the field. There was the sound of wood, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Tope's quick figure hurriedly close a desk drawer and run back in the bathroom, locking it shut.

Natalya paused, looking at the desk drawer.

She turned away.

_Why should I be curious about that stupid girl?_

xXx

Literally, a few minutes later, Tope kicked open the bathroom door to let cool air flow inside, a white-hot hairdryer expelling the water from her damp hair. Once her hair was somewhat dry, she zipped on a purple hoodie for the cold.

Natalya was still looking out the window.

"Ready?" Tope asked, slipping her shoes on.

With a pompous _'hmph,'_ the Belorussian simply turned away from the darkening snowy view and walked past her partner, out the door.

Tope refused to glance at her desk as she locked her room.

xXx

~~~1st POV~~~

We were late for the visual art judging, but were able to slip inside quietly just in time to see Miss Ukraine (dressed in a beautiful red dress and a Santa hat) walk up to the microphone and announce to the whole school, "Congratulations to everyone who has made such stunning artworks! The winners for the Visual Arts category are Ludwig and Francis Bonnefoy, for their beautiful decorative cake! Their score will move on to the final round."

The two unlikely partners were brought upstage to accept their green ribbon. The whole auditorium was filled with applause, and once I saw their 4-tier Christmas cake—adorned with beautiful sugar ribbons and sprinkled with what looked like coconut for snow—I applauded even harder, mouth watering. It looked _lusciously_ delicious.

Francis was winking and blowing kisses at the crowd, while Ludwig was standing stoic and silent, a brush of pink on his cheeks. I grinned, and then glanced to the seat next to me to see Natalya's reaction.

Unsurprisingly, she wasn't there anymore.

xXx

Once Ludwig and Francis stepped offstage, Miss Katyusha announced that there would be a short break while round two contestants got set up. I took this time to find where my friends were sitting (right in the center of the audience) and find out who had already presented. Felice and Eliza, and Yao and Romano all did paintings, so they were finished. Francis was boasting of his extravagant __patisserie___talents while Ludwig sat on the side, looking bashful as other students congratulated him. _

"You're gonna share some of that cake with us, right?" I said innocently to Ludwig.

The German gave me a half-smile. "Maybe, if Francis even lets us cut it with a knife."

We glanced at Francis, still smirking wide with satisfaction.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

xXx

There weren't as many contestants in the 2nd round (which consisted of story-telling, poetry, videos, etc), so everyone was judged quickly. It was obvious that the real bulk of the show was the last segment—the live performances. Kiku and his partner the (Asian girl with long, thick hair) won the 2nd round with a fun, entertaining video about Christmas in Japan and Taiwan. Kiku admitted to us that he did a lot of the visual graphics. I was very impressed.

Katyusha walked onstage once again to announce to order of participants for the last segment, and that we had another ten minutes to relax. While listening for my name, I noticed that there were some important-looking people sitting in the very first row, next to the teachers' judging table. I assumed that they were sponsors for our school, coming to watch our performances.

"And last, but not least, Tope and Natalya," Katyusha said. "After that, our Headmaster will give us a few good words to conclude, and everyone is free to go to the dining hall for Christmas dinner! And because it's such a special night, everyone can take a small package of snacks to celebrate."

I pursed my mouth in impatience. We were going to be last!

xXx

I clapped along with everyone else as Arthur's last dove flew back to the stage, land on Matthew's arm, and disappear in a flourish of violet silk. The pair received a stupendous applause; their magic show was amazing!

As both boys walked offstage, their props were cleared away for the next performance. I blinked in surprise as the familiar, towering figure of Ivan walked onstage alongside his partner, Alfred. I hadn't even noticed that they had left their seats.

Cradled in the Ivan's arms was a glossy, dark upright bass; Alfred gave the audience a grin as they stared at the sleek, golden saxophone in his hands. They were going to perform a song!

http :/ www .youtube. com /watch? v=-Pyfb WCtGQc **(watch the 7 spaces)**

There was the dull sound of the microphone being tapped, and Ivan nodded to someone backstage. A few seconds later, the projected screen in the background came alive—and everyone watched as a few images of Ivan and Alfred popped up on screen, each on a different instrument. Drummer Alfred gave the camera a thumbs up and a grin, and counted off using his drum sticks. He softly tapped out an introduction, and the live-saxophone Alfred played a few high, sweet notes onstage. Ivan began plucking a hum of notes on his bass, and then started singing, "_What do you want this year for Christmas…_"

Wolf whistles sang out from the crowd, along with an appreciative applause, as the band of Ivans and Alfreds in the video started to play with their live counterparts. The drums beat out a steady beat; the keyboard purred out retro chords; an electric guitar tickled the melody here and there; a tambourine ratta-tat-tatted along to the rhythm. Alfred's saxophone played long intervals—smooth and sly, and Ivan's bass and naturally deep, tumbling voice lulled the entire audience into a tranquil swing. I imagined the song playing with a quiet Christmas fire burning in the fireplace, warm colors everywhere.

It was then that I took the time to truly admire the boys playing smooth jazz. Alfred's whole body seemed to move to the slow and steady beat as he fingered the notes gently. He looked quite the young man in his laid-back white collar and black vest, a classic black fedora tilted atop his head.

Ivan looked—dare I say—stunningly handsome in his high-collared, jet-black jacket, his casual tie and scarf swinging against the chest of his white collared shirt. The melody of the song flowed from Ivan's voice to Alfred's sax, giving Ivan the luxury of quietly moving his eyes over the audience. My heart skipped an excited beat when his violet eyes rested on me, the lighting of the stage giving them a gentle look.

"_What can I give to you for Christmas_," he sang once more, "_that you don't—already have…_"

I blinked, and our eye contact was broken.

Gradually, the song faded to an end. The video grew silent and Ivan let his last note reverberate across the auditorium, and everyone seemed to relax into their seat as Alfred's sax held out into sweet silence.

Silence—which was immediately broken by a thunderous applause. Many students stood up and cheered loudly, whooping in appreciation. I stood up too, clapping long and hard for them, a bright smile on my face.

Their performance was by far the best one so far! I wouldn't be surprised if they won…

I caught myself, and then resumed my clapping.

_I'll just have to do my best,_ I thought. _May the best performance win, boys_.

xXx

A few decent performances later, the spotlight shone on another performance that stood out from the rest.

Two people I didn't recognize walked up on stage. One was a young man with startling white hair and red eyes, looking a little uncomfortable in his handsome black-tie suit; in his hand was a flute that shone like a star. His partner was a girl in a velvet-red dress that tickled her calves, random green trinkets twinkling on her wrists. Her choppy black hair bounced happily as she strolled charmingly to her place at the microphone.

"That's my brother with the flute, Gilbert," Ludwig answered me in a whisper. "The girl is…ah, Katina Michalis. I believe she is the Macedonian student here."

The boy—Gilbert—held the silver mouthpiece to his lips and breathed a few warm-ups into the auditorium. I marveled at his clear, ringing tone. If bells could sing, they would sing exactly like this.

Without warning, the boy suddenly plunged into a series of notes, his fingers moving carelessly up and down on their keys. The quick melody slowed down and got softer—so soft, that I (along with most of the school) found myself leaning closer to listen. A few hops and skips in the tone, and the girl began singing.

"_Silent night, Holy night_…"

I remained breathlessly silent as vocals and flute danced endlessly as one. The girl had a singsong voice that reminded me of doves—soft and pure. The song reached its end tenderly, slowing to a sweet end. The girl held out her last note while Gilbert did a few last intervals, melody whirling into conclusion.

While the applause that followed wasn't as loud as its Russian-American predecessor, it came pretty damn close. I clapped well in appreciation, throwing in a couple whistles for fun. The couple onstage bowed a few times before obediently exiting off to the side.

Bowing low, I excused myself from my seat and walked around to the door that would lead me backstage.

After the next performance, the spotlight would be on me and Natalya.

xXx

Deciding to look for my partner while the current performance began setting up (a dance, I assumed from the way they were dressed), I travelled between stagehands and random props. But just as I turned a corner, I almost ran straight into someone walking at full speed. It was the girl in the beautiful red dress that just sang! I managed to swerve just in time to avoid crashing into her.

"I'm so sorry," we apologized at the same time. We both grinned. Glancing behind her, I saw her partner impatiently tapping his foot—the boy with startling white hair and red eyes, his flute packed away in its case and hanging from his hand.

"You sang very well," I told the girl very earnestly.

The girl (a little shorter than me, but very pretty all the same) offered me a great, big bubbly smile.

"Thank you!" she chirped. "Hey, you're Tope, right? Oh, I can't wait to see your performance!"

Shoot, what did Ludwig say her name was? Katrina? Ah, _Katina!_

"Thanks," I said. I slid my eyes from Katina to Ludwig's brother, Gilbert. "You played beautifully. It was amazing."

The boy stopped fiddling with his cuffs and smirked at me. "I _was_ pretty awesome, wasn't I?" Without a single word of thanks, he trained a glare on Katina, switching from contempt to irritated. "Move it, woman. I need'a get back out there."

The boy pushed past both of us, and Katina let out an amused chuckle.

"He's mad just because I forced him to wear a suit instead of his t-shirt and jeans," she said, grinning at me. I grinned in return.

"Well, congratulations," I said sincerely. "You two did a really good job out there." I made a move to slip past her towards the stage. Another chirped, _"Thanks!"_ and a quick goodbye, and the girl was off.

It was only when I was alone that I noticed the pale shadow leaning against the wall.

"Hi, Natalya!" I greeted her warmly. Past her, I could see the current performance taking their bows and their leave, the lights on the stage turning off completely to obscure the working stagehands. I rushed to help them carry our many props out from hiding and into the open.

The audience was murmuring excitedly as we finished. I ran to the other side of the stage opposite of Natalya to give our CD-guy the cue.

"Hello, Tope!" whispered a cheery voice. I glanced up to see Miss Katyusha next to me, eyes brimming with excitement.

"Thanks for helping us, Miss Katyusha," I whispered to her. "Are you ready?" Beyond the curtains, the audience had begun to hush themselves.

Katyusha nodded vigorously, smiling as bright as the sun even in the dark of the curtains.

The stage lights came back on—and suddenly, it was our turn to perform.

xXx

* * *

><p><strong>Katina Michalis (Macedonia) – belongs to <em>AnimangaAquaYuriko <em>on Quizilla. :) I hope you're doing well, friend. **

**xD I'm so sorry for the writer's diarrhea of words. The story kinda just wrote itself! Tope-Natalya tag team is coming up next, I promise.**


	18. Chapter 17: Tragic Solution

Sitting in the audience, Ivan watched with wary eyes as the lights on the stage switched on again and revealed a setting like no other. Sitting center stage was a small, wooden dining table set for two—complete with chairs, plates, and cups. Behind it all was a large grand piano, sitting almost unnoticed in the shadows.

http :/ www .mixpod. com /playlist /8347 8584

Despite the piano, the speakers came alive with the sound of quiet piano keys playing music. It was calm and serene—yet sorrowful. Ivan wondered why the mood felt so sad just as his younger sister walked onstage, her previous coat removed to reveal what she was really wearing. Natalya looked very pretty in her long, dark blue dress, her usual bow switched for a much smaller one on a headband that held back her tumbling platinum-blonde hair.

Natalya carried a silver candelabrum to the table and placed it carefully on its center, adjusting the two place settings to be perfectly straight. Suddenly (to his surprise), Ivan's older sister cheerily skipped onstage from the other side, beaming (and wearing a similar blue dress to Natalya). Katyusha stopped right before Natalya and quickly swept her sister up into a great big hug. Ivan was shocked to see Natalya embracing back, a small smile on her face.

Katyusha pulled away to kiss her on the forehead, and then both sisters suddenly looked up towards the end of the stage. Clapping her hands excitedly, Ivan's older sister ran off as if going to answer the door. Meanwhile, the sad music turned a bit more nostalgic. Natalya's expression fell as she watched her sister welcome someone in, and her eyes widening when she saw who it was.

Tope walked in with Katyusha, dressed casually in a jacket and jeans, arm-in-arm with Natalya's older sister as if they were best friends. Hatred flashed in Natalya's eyes, but it was gone the second her sister looked at her.

Katyusha led Tope to the dining table, eyes sparkling with happiness, and then stopped as if she forgot something. Gesturing to the plates, she looked at Tope with a question in her eyes. Tope graciously accepted the dinner invitation.

Rushing offstage (probably to grab an extra chair), Katyusha left the two girls alone.

Natalya was giving Tope her deadliest glare, but Tope was enjoying the younger sister's obvious jealousy. She taunted her with a wide and jeering smirk—an expression that was immediately wiped off her face when Natalya moved to grip Katyusha's chair possessively.

_"Go away,"_ Natalya mouthed clearly. The music was beginning to get louder.

Tope's dark eyes smoldered. _"No."_

Natalya looked so furious that Ivan almost felt the need to pull Tope out of the way. But before his sister could fly at her, Katyusha came back—carrying a chair in her hands. Throwing one last smirk, Tope's whole expression changed when she faced his older sister. Smiling broadly, she took the chair herself and placed it right next to Katyusha's, much to Natalya's displeasure.

Looking at a watch on her wrist, Katyusha realized that she was late for an appointment. She rushed over to fuss over Natalya's hair, gave her a quick kiss on the head, and moved to rest her hands on her sister's shoulders—reminding Tope to watch after her sister. Tope gave her best friend the most reassuring smile in the world, and bid Katyusha goodbye.

_"I'll be back soon,"_ Katyusha told them.

Ivan felt like he was invading in on a private moment—a scene that which he could do nothing but watch as tragedy unfolded. His eldest sister, instead of running offstage, strolled to the shadows of the background and became nothing more than a silhouette. She calmly took her place at the grand piano, and just as the recorded CD track ended, she placed her long, slender fingers on the keys and began to play. The sound of a real piano was louder and felt much more real than a simple recording, and Ivan felt his mind become more engrossed into the story. This auditorium was no longer a simple place for contests… It was now a place of something much, much more than that.

The audience could feel Natalya's hatred roll off of her in icy waves, but Tope continued to smirk at her, egging the girl on to make the first move.

As blindingly fast as lightning, Natalya's whole body moved into action. She pulled out something from her dress pocket and whipped it right at Tope.

Tope's eyes widened in shock. Taking a startled step back, there was a loud _THUNK_ that echoed clearly across the stage. Embedded into the head of Tope's chair where her hand had just been was a knife—so deeply sunk into the wood that it stuck out on the other side.

Both Ivan's and Tope's eyes were wide with alarm. The Russian noticed how the confident look in Tope's posture had changed, and his panic rose. Natalya was supposed to throw the knife…wasn't she? _WASN'T SHE?_

And then suddenly, after an eternally long pause of silence, the girl grinned—and it was a look of grim animosity. Tope yanked the knife out of her chair, flourishing it in her hand, examining the silver blade. She strolled around the table to Natalya's chair and put her other hand on it, appraising the blonde girl with a critical eye. Abruptly, she shoved the chair down and kicked it savagely so that it slid across the ground and stopped at Natalya's still figure. Tope then slammed the knife into the table—moved to Katyusha's chair—and gripped it possessively—all the while never once looking away from the sister of her best friend.

The message was painfully clear.

Both girls hated the each other, but loved Katyusha. Neither wanted to share.

To everyone's astonishment, Natalya—her face twisted into rage—picked up her fallen chair and heaved it with all her might at the girl. Tope was taken aback, forced to dodge out of the way as the wooden projectile nearly met her face full-on. But the assault didn't stop there… Natalya lived up to her deadly persona and snatched the plates off the table, giving Tope exactly two seconds to realize what was happening and snap to the ground as the platter was flung her way.

The anger had still not left Natalya. Furious that Tope avoided getting hurt (_the nerve of her—!)_, the Belorussian threw _herself_ at Tope―but was caught unawares as the fallen girl suddenly kicked her foot up—and Natalya was thrown back, gasping for air.

_"Bitch,"_ Tope hissed, her eyes seething. Standing up, she pulled her knife out from the table and walked over to Natalya.

Ivan gripped his seat. Tope—Natalya—his sister—the—she—_fuck_—

Natalya's eyes flashed to the oncoming danger, and she lashed out with another blade conjured from the pockets of her dress. Tope jerked out of danger's way and then, by some stroke of luck, swung her knife in such a way that both blades seemed to ricochet out of their hands. The two girls recoiled as one knife flew into the darkness past the curtains and the other landed ten feet away from them.

Natalya must have realized that her pockets had ran out of knives, for she whirled all around, searching for her beloved weapons. Tope saw it first and started for it, but was soon stopped by Natalya as the vicious girl snatched her by the collar of her jacket and yanked back. Stumbling unbalanced and angry, Tope whipped around and blindly threw a punch—but in vain; she missed.

The whole audience could only watch, eyes wide in alarm, as the two girls struggled against each other. It was a fight no one could touch—no one could interfere. As if to emphasize this point, Katyusha's piano playing—gradually growing more chaotic by the second—was so loud that no one could even hear the sounds of their skirmish as the girls tumbled over each other on the ground.

As one, the audience held their breath, until—

—there was the cracking sound of flesh on flesh, and Tope staggered back into Katyusha's chair, bringing both her and the chair to the ground. Immediately, she began to get up to face her opponent—but it was too late. Natalya had already grabbed the knife and pinned Tope to the ground by straddling her stomach.

Natalya raised the knife high for all to see, and there were gasps all around—some people even cried out. Ivan wasn't breathing at all. The blade streaked down in a flash of silver—

But Tope threw her hand up just in time to seize the knife-arm. Eyes hard with concentration, she used all her might to heave the girl off of her, rolling to the side so that now Tope was above her.

Forcefully wrestling the knife out of Natalya's hands, Tope drew her arm back, eyes narrow with the full intent of murder—but something bumped her elbow, and she glanced back.

It was Katyusha's chair, fallen and defeated on the ground, lying on its side. Tope's whole expression froze, and then twisted into horror. Katyusha—_Katyusha_—her wonderful, wonderful friend—and now her beloved friend's sister was below her—and they had been fighting—and now there was a knife in her hand—and she was just about to—

The music paused. Natalya gaped in bewilderment as Tope's shoulders began to tremble and she just sat there, staring at the knife, eyes lost in a world of their own.

Ivan watched as the once-playful girl deteriorated in just seconds before his eyes. Slowly, she started shaking her head, murmuring something to herself over and over again. As her eyes squeezed tight, Ivan could see what she was whispering:

_"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"_

Natalya angrily glared at her as if to say_, "What are you waiting for?"_

Slowly, the knife lifted into the air. But just before it began to swing down, Tope's hazy eyes seemed to suddenly clear. Something quietly slid down the side of her face, and she seemed to whisper something to Natalya—something that made Natalya's angry glare disappear—replaced by a look of surprise.

This time, when Tope spoke, it was aloud—and as everyone was anxiously watching the pair, straining to hear—her whisper could be heard all across the auditorium.

"I'm sorry."

The knife arched down—but Ivan could tell—the angle of the blade wasn't right—it wasn't for Natalya—

Someone screamed as all the lights in the auditorium suddenly turned off, hurling everyone into complete darkness.

When the lights illuminated the stage once more, Natalya was alone on the ground, breathing hard as if suddenly roused by a nightmare, hand stretched out and reaching for someone that wasn't there. Natalya looked all around her, a confused look on her face (along with everyone else in the audience). Standing up warily, her searching eyes skimmed across the untouched dining table and its three place settings, all three chairs undisturbed.

_Was it all just a dream?_ Everyone dared to believe.

Ivan hadn't realized that Katyusha had disappeared until his older sister came running onstage, waving a letter in her hand, looking extremely distraught. Natalya numbly took the letter from her sister and read it carefully. She looked up in surprise, disbelieving, just as Katyusha embraced her tightly, body racking with sobs. Natalya's eyes slid over to the third chair sitting innocently at the table—and then she closed them, bringing her arms up to quietly hold her sister together.

They were still embracing when the speakers suddenly emitted what sounded like the last notes to Katyusha's piano solo, and someone from the audience jumped in surprise, yelping out, "Jesus!" This relieved some tension within the crowd as some students chuckled. The laughter, however, did not reach the many that were still watching the show, mesmerized by the sisters' every movement.

No one noticed that Ivan's face had paled, or that his whole figure had gone deathly still.

Finally, the two sisters onstage pulled away and turned towards the piano. A light was slowly illuminating the back half of the stage to reveal a small crystal vase sitting all alone, tiny purple flowers reaching up to touch the sky. They approached it with a sense of solemnity. Katyusha bent down to pray while Natalya remained standing, watching the grave with not an expression of hate, but an expression that simply seemed to ask, _"Why?"_ The shadows fell in such a way that their blue dresses seemed black.

Katyusha was the first to leave. She walked away, her boots echoing across the stage in the silence.

Hesitating before the grave, Natalya sighed to herself and crouched down, running her hand through her hair and pulling the bow-headband off. Placing it by the vase, she brushed her hair behind her ear and mouthed, _"Merry Christmas."_

Natalya drew herself up and left the site, pausing to look back only once.

All eyes were on the single grave that stood alone. Slowly, the glow of the spotlight spread out, and the audience could finally see what the shadows had so deftly hidden: across the stage were at least a dozen other vases, all adorned with flowers—many of them decorated with holiday gifts.

And then the lights finally faded away, and the house lights came on, illuminating the audience.

The entire auditorium was swept away by a deafening applause that went on for a straight five minutes. The performance received a standing ovation from nearly every member of the audience, at least twenty or so whistling as loud as they could. Some were quickly wiping their eyes while others swallowed their emotions down awkwardly. Even the teachers sitting at the judges table joined in on the ovation.

Of course, through all the grand applause, not a single person noticed that one boy was neither clapping nor cheering. Ivan Braginski was standing up in his seat, mouth firmly set into an indefinable line—expression unreadable on his face, but intense all the same. His eyes, like many, were still on the stage, waiting for the contest partners to come out.

And so they did—an enormous grin on Tope's face and an impassive look upon Natalya's. Both girls came center stage and took a deep bow, inducing another roar of applause by their audience. Someone threw a rose at them and it landed at their feet; the audience laughed. Tope picked it up and handed it to Natalya, who took it without a word.

"Alrighty," said a familiar hostess. Katyusha walked back onstage holding her microphone. "Let's have a round of applause for all our wonderful contestants! Thank you to everyone who participated and made this a wonderful evening. Now, the judges will be scoring our final performance and discuss the winners for our competition."

The audience clapped once more and the whole auditorium was lit. People got up and stretched, excitedly discussing the performances they had witnessed and making bets on who would win.

More than one placed their money on the very last performance.

xXx

"Holy crap!" Alfred exclaimed as Tope rejoined them (graciously thanking all those who approached her). "You were—that was so freaking _AWESOME!_"

"That fight was amazing," Arthur said in awe. "Did you choreograph the entire thing?"

Tope grinned at this. "Actually, most of the fight was improvised. We didn't have time to practice."

"Does zat mean ze fight was real?" Francis said. "Don't tell me it was!"

"I did pretty good considering, eh?"

The girl grinned embarrassingly as her friends congratulated her, her eyes alight with pleasure. She shook hands and returned grins, loving the feeling of their attention. But as she started to discuss the contest with her excited friends, she noticed that there was one less person nearby. Looking up, Tope realized that Ivan was still sitting in his seat, head down, eyes lost in thought.

Someone in the crowd initiated a hush, and soon everyone was taking their seats again. Tope purposely sat down next to Ivan.

"Hey," she said to him. "Are you okay?"

The Russian's eyes looked up at her. There was something in his eyes that made Tope pull back a little, wondering if she did something wrong.

"Why did you kill yourself?" he asked hoarsely.

"I-I'm sorry?"

His eyes smoldered. "_Why_ did you kill yourself?"

Tope's worried gaze turned just a tad bit irritated. She grinned playfully nonetheless. "That's for everyone to interpret on their own."

The answer didn't quench the fire in his eyes completely, but after a long moment of searching her mysterious smile, Ivan seemed to accept it. He turned away from her and said nothing else.

"Is everyone ready to hear the results?" Miss Katyusha's voice came over the speaker.

Everyone called out, "Yes!"

"In third place are Kiku Honda and Xiao Mei with their video on Christmas in Japan and Taiwan," Miss Katyusha announced. There was a round of applause as the two Asians were brought upstage to receive their award. "They will receive a gift card for $50 for the mall."

Kiku and Mei stayed behind Miss Katyusha as she waited for the applause to end.

"In second place are Ludwig and Francis Bonnefoy with their beautiful Christmas cake. They won the gift card and a pass to skip school for a day." More clapping. Ludwig and Francis walked to the stage.

Then came the moment everyone was waiting for…

"And in first place for the World Academy's Christmas Contest," Katyusha said dramatically, a wide smile on her face, "are Natalya Arlovskaya and Tope for their marvelous storytelling and acting!"

Alfred clapped Tope excitedly on the back (though looking a little grim that he lost) and urged the girl to stand up. Tope stood up and made her way to the stage. She and Natalya accepted their prizes from Miss Katyusha.

"Because they won first place, Natalya and Tope will get a gift card, a school pass, and a seat on the School Council." Katyusha turned towards the girls. "Tope, will you accept the opportunity to join the Council?"

"No thank you," the girl said easily. Some students gasped. Katyusha nodded good-naturedly and held the microphone to her younger sister.

"What about you, Natalya?"

For a moment, the girl didn't answer.

"No, I will not."

More gasps, and a surprised look from Tope. _What made her change her mind?_

"Oh, well," Katyusha said (though she looked quite happy with their choices). "Let's give these students one last round of applause!" And then, "Now, Headmaster Rome would like to say a few words."

The winners were led offstage and back to their seats as old man Rome himself came on stage and greeted the whole school.

"Good-a evening!" he boomed. "Your performances were all so wonderful! I'm-a so proud to be the Headmaster of such outstanding students. Congratulations to our winners and thank you all for participating in such an amazing contest. I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy Holidays! Buona notte, everyone~!"

xXx

~~~1st POV~~~

We followed the crowd to the dining hall for some much needed Christmas dinner. It was a feast to remember; I had a big piece of roasted chicken and mashed potatoes, carrots and peas, a big glass of Cola. Alfred brought up two plates filled with nearly everything from the menu, but laughed as Arthur commented on his eating habits. Next to me, Ivan had gone back to normal and was smiling pleasantly, enjoying the typical bicker and banter on our table. I felt happy just sitting with everyone, surrounded by friends and food and warmth.

"_Joyeux Noël__!_" Francis slurred, holding up his wine for a toast. We all cheered and tapped glasses in celebration.

"Merry Christmas!" I sang.

xXx

I was so exhausted that when I returned to my dorm that I collapsed on my bed and fell right asleep. I didn't even glance at the closed drawer on my desk.

That night, I dreamt of sunflowers.


	19. Chapter 18: Merry Christmas

_Knock, knock_.

"Hold on," I called from the bathroom. Drying my face and scooting around the presents on my carpet, I answered the door.

"Merry Christmas!" Alfred cheered joyously, thrusting a vibrantly wrapped present at me.

Catching it just in time, I said, "Thank you, Al! Come in, I have a present for you, too. Oh, Merry Christmas, Mattie."

Matthew gave me a shy smile and handed me a small box with a big gold ribbon, murmuring, "Merry Christmas." I placed my gifts on my (messy) bed and picked up two items from my Christmas pile. Alfred received a small envelope and Matthew received a softly wrapped bundle.

Immediately, the brothers opened their presents. Matthew was pleased to see a new hoodie in his and opened his mouth to thank me, but was interrupted by Alfred—who tackled me down in a crushing hug.

"Oh my god, McDonalds? GameStop? Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"A-Al—can't—breathe—"

"Oh!" He released me, a wide grin on his face. "Thank you, Tope!"

"Thank you," said Matthew finally. "Why don't you open your presents?"

The brothers looked so pleading that it was hard to say no. I took my time to carefully tear open their gifts ("Come on!" Alfred cried). Matthew's small package revealed itself to be a box of French chocolate delicacies. Alfred's box was full of colorful snacks and treats, and at the bottom were a few t-shirts.

"This is awesome!" I breathed. Holding up a tee to my front, I grinned. "Thank you so much, guys."

Alfred and Matthew beamed at me, and we walked downstairs with the rest of my presents to greet the other members of our crew.

xXx

"Ah! _Domo arigatou gozaimashita!_ I was hoping to buy this on sale later at the bookstore. I've been waiting for this for a long time! Thank you very much!" thanked a flustered Kiku.

"This book is perfect for teaching that _Dummkopf_ Italian. Thank you for the presents, Tope," Ludwig murmured.

"_Aiyah!_ This is so adorable!" Yao cried out as he crushed his new Hello Kitty pillow to his chest. "Thank you!"

Francis smirked wide and sexy. "Mmm…would you mind if you and I _savor_ these chocolates together?"

"Shut up, frog." Arthur turned towards me. "I've been meaning to take a crack at this brand of tea. Thank you, Tope."

"Ve~! All of this pasta, just-a for me?" Felice squeezed me tight. "Oh, it's-a like heaven!_ Grazie, grazie!_"

I grinned happily. "You're welcome, you pasta-loving fool." Taking a look through my various shopping bags, I realized something. "Oh! I forgot your presents upstairs, Ivan. I'm sorry, I'll be right back." After giving everyone a cheery wave, I rushed off to the elevator.

xXx

"You got me a present?" came a voice from my doorway. I nearly jumped in surprise. Ivan had his hands innocently behind his back and was smiling like an excited child.

"Yes," I chirped, about to pull out his presents just as he said abruptly, "Wait!"

"Here," he offered. In his hands were a beautiful bouquet of white lilies and red roses, and a royal blue, velvet jewelry box about as long as his hand. "_S Rozhdestvom Hristovym, moya dorogaya_."

"I have no idea what you just said," I said truthfully, "but thank you, Ivan." Taking the bouquet first, I pushed my face deep into those waxy petals and breathed deeply, smiling in pleasure at the lovely scent that filled my lungs. Next was the jewelry box, which I was hesitant to take; I hoped that he didn't spend too much money on me. Opening the velvet case slowly, I caught a glimpse of something purple…

Laid down upon the length of the case was a breathtakingly beautiful bracelet of dark amethyst crystals. Gently handling the delicate bracelet with my fingers, I held it up to the light, amazed by the quiet glimmering of each shard as they shimmered like violet fire, warm and inviting.

"Thank you, Ivan," I whispered quietly, unsure if this was something I could accept. "It's gorgeous."

Ivan took a step towards me, closing the distance between us. His long fingers pulled the bracelet from my hand and he held it up invitingly. "Let me put it on," he murmured, smiling.

My hand came up before I fully realized what was happening. The back of his hand brushed my own as he moved to clasp the ends of the bracelet around my wrist. The contact made my heart skip a beat. His body leaned in closer.

"Thank you," I said again, firmly taking a step away. Ivan chuckled.

"Now, where is my present?" he said teasingly.

Kicking my brain alive again, I gave him my most charming smile and snatched up the last shopping bag from beside my bed. I placed a bottle of pure Russian vodka and a bright, lively sunflower into his awaiting hands.

"Merry Christmas," I sang, and then watched for his reaction.

Ivan was delighted. His grin was maniac as he observed the exterior labels of the vodka, nodding approvingly. And like me, he pressed his face to the petals of the giant sunflower and inhaled deeply, eyes closing in pleasure at the light-hearted scent.

"So?" I prompted. "Is it okay?"

"…it's perfect," he said, opening his eyes to smile down on me warmly. "This is a very good gift. Thank you."

I smiled bashfully. "You're welcome, Iva—"

"Tope?"

"Yes?"

Ivan smiled wider. "Do you know what sunflowers symbolize?"

I tilted my head, giving it a thought. "Happiness?"

He nodded, "Da, happiness is one. But it also symbolizes warmth, vibrancy, nourishment, and longevity."

"Really?" I said. "Cool. Then, I hope that you will live long and stay warm."

Ivan's eyes sparkled, as if laughing at an inside joke. "Da, I hope I do, too."

Standing in quietness for a long moment of time, I gave him a smile and nodded towards the door. "Come on, we should get back to the others. I'm starving for breakfast."

He chuckled. "Even after eating all of that food last night? I am not sure if such indulgence is healthy for you," he teased as he headed for the door first. "_Ya tebya lyublyu._"

His last words froze me in my tracks. A dull pain pulsed in the back of my head, but it was quickly overpowered by a wave of confusing thoughts.

Did he just say, _'I love you_'?

Wait. How did I even know that?

Ivan turned around in the doorway, noticing that I had stopped following him. He saw my expression and smirked amusedly, cocking an eyebrow.

"Oh? I didn't think you'd remember that phrase," he said.

"Excuse me?" I tried to retort, but the words got caught in my throat. I pushed the returning pain away and awkwardly tried to push past Ivan as well, but his tall figure filled the doorway, making it impossible to escape him. His hands casually holding the doorframe, he took a step forward towards me, pushing _me_ back into the room. Shivers ran up and down my spine as I realized how trapped I was, more so when I realized that _I liked this_. _I wanted this. _

"Do you know what else sunflowers symbolize?" Ivan whispered to me, leaning closer.

Eyes wide, I gulped, barely shaking my head. I closed my eyes and winced into myself as he drew even closer. Warm lips kissed my forehead, setting fire to a wave of goose bumps down my arms and a raging surge of pain in my skull.

"Sunflowers also mean _constancy_ and _devotion_," he continued to murmur. "They mean _loyalty_." And then he smiled, as if he was torturing me exclusively and was enjoying it.

I'm sorry to say that my head couldn't take it anymore. A groan of pain escaped my lips as my hands came up to clench my agonizing cranium. Doubling over, I grit my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut. It was like someone was dragging their nails across a chalkboard. It was like someone was hammering nails into my skull—_BANG—BANG—SUNFLOWER—BANG—BANG—BOX—BANG—GU—_

"Tope?" Ivan gasped, worried. I swear, if I were able to speak, I would have dryly commented on his erratic mood swings. But alas, the headache splitting my brain in half was a tad bit overpowering.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around me tightly. I was kneeling on the ground, trying not to cry out.

"Tope?" Ivan whispered like a child in my ear. "Tope? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Tope, please…" He held me as if he dared not to let go.

Sluggishly, the aching pain began to subside. I slowly opened my eyes again and breathed deeply.

"…sorry," I muttered. My head was still ringing, but I made a move to get up off the ground.

Ivan pulled me back into his arms. I was suddenly too tired to resist.

"You can stay here," he said quietly. His arms caged me in protectively. "You're safe here. You're safe here with me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…"

xXx

_"Okay, so if you don't like oranges, then what _do_ you like?"_

_"…I like _you_."_

_Something flashed. _

_"Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What did you say?"_

_"…"_

_"Hey, how come I can't see you? Hello? Are you still there?"_

_"…I'm still here."_

_Those words send a chill down my spine. _

_"Where are you?" I called. "_Who_ are you?"_

_There was no reply. _

xXx

"—improper manners, this is! We shouldn't be in a _girls'_ dormitory room, much less if she's _sleeping_."

"I-I agree, Arthur-san, but I am very worried…"

"Why is it that every time something bad happens to her, _you're_ around?"

"What are you implying, _svinya_? That I am the harbinger of bad things?"

"I'm _implying_ that you should stay away from her—for her own good."

"Save your stupid bickering for later," interrupted an annoyed voice. "She's still sleeping."

"Francis!" barked a voice. "Hands off, ten steps back—now!"

A groan.

"Mattie!" exclaimed a voice. "When did you get here?"

"I—"

"Vee~ Ludwig, I can't find any pasta in her desk. All I found was this book!"

"Feliciano-kun, put that back! You should not touch someone else's belongings!"

"Ahh! I'm sorry!"

"Please silence yourselves," a cheery voice chirped. "Or will I have to do it for you?"

No one said anything after that.

xXx

Yawning, I sat up from my bed, thinking it was morning again. But something was off. It was darker than usual, and my desk lamp was on…and there were people there.

"What are you all doing in my room?" I demanded, ruffling my hair from sleep. The room must have been quiet, because everyone suddenly burst into sound.

"Ve~! _Buon giorno_, Tope!" Felice cheered the loudest of all as he plopped down right next to my bed.

"Are you okay?" Alfred asked worriedly.

Before everyone else could contribute their concerns, I held a hand up firmly, repeating myself, "What—are you all doing in my room?"

"Don't you remember?" Ivan said simply. "You were taking very long to come back down, so I came up here to check on you. I found you on the ground. We think that you fainted."

Ivan was lying. But seeing no sense in telling the truth, I irritatingly snapped, "Yes, I sort of figured that out. What I _asked_ was _what are you doing in my room_?"

To some degree, everyone looked taken aback.

"We just wanted to make sure you were okay," Alfred said quietly. "No need to act all angry at us."

My glare faltered, and I sighed, looking down. "…sorry, my head really hurts right now and I'm a little…disorientated." I smiled uncertainly. "How long was I out for?"

"Nearly the whole day," Arthur said. "I sincerely apologize for allowing this band of hooligans to crowd your dorm room, Tope. Truthfully, though, I'd say everyone was concerned when Ivan returned without you."

Climbing out of my sheets and plopping back down on the bed, I said, "I hope you weren't in here the whole day. You should be out celebrating Christmas, throwing snowballs or something."

"They were," huffed Yao. In the wide reach of the lamp's light, I finally noticed that nearly everyone's hair was damp from snow. "Antonio checked on you and only let us in half-hour ago."

"So you were all standing around in here for half-an-hour, watching me sleep?"

Ivan grinned and nodded.

"That's extremely disturbing." But despite myself, I smiled. "Now, get out you bunch of misfits! Is there still time to get dinner?"

"Of course!" Alfred exclaimed. "The dining hall's open for another few hours."

"Excellent. You guys go to the dining hall. I'll be right there."

"You sure?" Francis asked. "We can wait if you want."

"I'll be fine. Thanks for checking up on me, but I think I really need a shower and a change of clothes now."

"Alright, if you insist."

As soon as they were out the door, I flopped back on my bed, hand lightly brushing the thin layer of sweat on my forehead. What happened to me when Ivan triggered that massive headache? Were those images…memories? I remembered a sunflower…a loud noise and yelling…and the box—oh, the box was so important. But why? What triggered those memories?

A flutter rose and fell in my stomach. I was treading in deep waters. Curiosity was taking over me, tempting me to keep going—to keep questioning the past. I wanted to _know_. I wanted to end the mystery and finally know the truth behind the person I used to be before I fell and hit my head. First of all, _why_ did I fall? What the hell was I doing in the school building, so far away from the dorms, in the middle of the night? Why was it Ivan who discovered me? Why did Utopia hide her journal under the bathroom floor?

_The journal_, I remembered. Suddenly, the desk had a heavy presence in the room.

Why was I so reluctant to recovering my memories? It was because if I started to unearth the past and remembered everything, then I might slowly go back to how I acted before—and I refused to give up my life so that perfect Utopia could take over. I was my own person now. I was never going to let her take my life away.

But now that I thought about it, minus the headaches, the surfacing memories weren't changing me, were they? I wasn't acting any differently than before. In fact, in denying Utopia's existence, I seem to actually be solidifying my own presence.

I traced the edges of my toes. Hesitantly, I considered my options:

One, I could keep resisting Utopia the way I am right now. I could burn the journal and teach myself to become immune to the flashbacks and headaches. I would be simply me for the rest of my life, and I would never have to worry about what had happened on the stairs that mysterious night. I would never know.

Or two, I could go _searching_ for the answers. I could read Utopia's journal and find out what had happened to make me lose all of my memories. I would know (or at least come close to knowing) about my past and who I used to be. Sure, I would risk slowly going back to how I acted before, and the headaches were bound to get worse—but oh, how I just wanted to know what happened.

I refrained from making more choices, because if I did then I would be even more indecisive.

Juggling one option from the other, I realized that—well, _duh_—I had fucking _permanent amnesia. _The doctor lady already told me that. Even if I were to pick the second option, the one where I tried to remember, I wouldn't be able to remember anything anyways.

Or could I?

A little excited and a lot cautious, I crossed my legs on the bed and relaxed myself. What could I concentrate on? Ivan was the first thing to come to mind. Then the box in his room. Then…

xXx

_Panic. I'm rushing to finish writing. I'm scared that I won't be able to finish in time. In the end, I decide to be tricky. I go straight to the bathroom and lift up the bottom right tile—the one that's rickety and loose. Quickly, I bury the journal deep under the nest of white packing peanuts and seal the tile once more. _

xXx

…the journal!

"Tope!" a voice sang from the hall suddenly. "Are you ready yet?"

Startled off the bed, I quickly stripped and changed into a different set of clothes. "Sorry, I'll be right there!"

Ivan was outside to meet me. Of course. Why am I not surprised?

Without speaking to each other, he and I made our way to the dining hall. At one point though, while walking down the cold and snowy path, Ivan innocently said, "How's your head?"

I glanced suspiciously at him. "It's fine now. Why?"

He smiled. "Just concerned, of course."

"Well, thank you, then."

Further along the path, he spoke again. "Be prepared," he warned. "They're going to give you your presents after dinner."

Something about the way he said it made me smile amusedly.

"Honestly, Ivan? I don't care about getting presents. I just want to spend Christmas with my favorite bunch of misfits."

Ivan grinned wickedly, sending shivers up my arms. "Am I one of these misfits?"

"Certainly. One of the best."

xXx

Drying my hair from the lusciously hot shower, I scooted around my small pile of presents and quickly snuggled deep into the cocoon of warm blankets. Felice had given me a thick, comfortable quilt for Christmas. I pulled the quilt closer, breathing in the faint scent of sunlight.

I laid there for the longest moment, debating whether or not I would be able to find sleep tonight with so many controversies jumbling up my thoughts.

After a while, I finally made my decision.

Slipping out of my blanket cocoon, I opened the desk's big drawer and pulled out Utopia's journal.

The bed welcomed me back with warm arms as I lay down comfortably on my stomach.

Feeling a slight tingle of excitement under my skin, I placed the journal gently in front of me and opened to the first page.

xXx

_Dear Journal…_

xXx

* * *

><p><strong>[AN]: Ciao, my friends. :) MoU has finally been updated! Rejoice! Aha, but not yet. You love my lovely cliffhanger, yes?**

**So, some things to discuss. (sigh) Updates will be slow(er than usual). I blame school. You know the whole mumble-jumbo. **

**Another thing, I'm sure that some of you have noticed that I don't put translations at the end of every story. There's two main reasons for that: 1) I'd like to think that, without translations, you'll feel just as wondering as Tope; translations would ruin the sense of not-knowing; and 2) I'm lazy. :| Let's just leave it at that. Of course, if you ever ask me, I'll definitely tell you what the characters are saying. :)**

**I apologize for the next mass of chapters. xD I wrote out all of Utopia's journal entries and—surprise, surprise—there's a ton of 'em. So, I hope you like reading people's diaries! 'Cause there's gonna be A LOT of journal entries to read. Sorry if they're boring, but they're important. :) Very, very important. **

**Okay, no more spoilers! :D I hope you enjoyed this little ****'Part One – Tope'****-eighteen chapter saga. Now let's move on to the next bunch of chapters:**

**'Part Two – Utopia'**

**(PS: Questions? Don't panic and just go with the flow~! Chapter 19 will be up as soon as I can.)**

**Much love,**

**Devi**


	20. Chapter 19: The First Reading

**_Day 1_**

_Dear Journal,_

_Happy 16__th__ Birthday to me. This beautiful journal is a gift from Matthew, who bought it for me straight away because he thought that the leather suited me perfectly. He truly is a kindhearted boy. I am grateful to have such a friend. _

_I suppose I know how to use a journal, but writing my thoughts in a book is still very strange to me. Perhaps I just have to practice?_

_Sometimes, the room feels too quiet for me. As a birthday treat, I bought myself an iTouch to play music. I hope that music will be able to fill the room. No one knows this, so don't tell anyone, but my room gets lonely sometimes. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to share room with someone. _

_The sky is bleak and impenetrable, full of cloudy snow. Why was I born on such a cold day?_

_~Utopia_

[xXx]

**_Day 2_**

_Dear Journal,_

_I distributed all of my Thank-You cards during lunch. Alfred made a big fuss over it, saying that I didn't have to give them 'thank-you' cards, but I slipped one in his bag anyways. On the other hand, Feliciano was very enthusiastic about my card. He pulled Ludwig and me into a group hug, saying that we should eat pasta together again. I must remember to eat with them and Antonio on Friday. _

_Arthur and I received a perfect score on our science report, most likely due to Arthur's outstandingly useful scones (they provided us with an excellent source of toxic chemicals for our experiment). Alfred, on the other hand, enjoyed nearly taking everyone's face off with his unfortunate presentation "accident." (I'm sure that he had rigged that beaker to fall on purpose.)_

_Thankfully, there were no injuries. ("Hit the deck!" someone had screamed.) Alfred will be serving three weeks of daily detention with Mr. Zwingli. Our Swedish Professor, in fact, probably knew exactly what had happened with that beaker. _

_~Utopia_

[xXx]

**_Day 3_**

_Dear Journal,_

_Antonio rearranged our seats in class today. As of right now, I reside in a seat in between Alfred, Ivan, and Feliciano. Ludwig was extremely unpleased about Feliciano's unfortunate placement so far away from him (he, Feliciano, and Kiku seem to be keeping to themselves a lot more at lunch). Alfred was busy doodling, but kept glancing warily between Ivan, Ludwig, and me. Ivan's calculative eyes slowly swept the room, a smile on his face, waiting for something interesting to happen. _

_It was an altogether uncomfortable class. You can imagine the sort of things this semester will engender by the end of the year. I do hope that no misfortune will befall upon us. _

_Ludwig offered me_—

(xXx)

Without warning, a sharp, angry pain bit through my head. I dropped the journal, which had been inches away from my eyes, and winced—hard. I couldn't—_shit_—my head—everything was reeling. Wheezing, my fingers tangled themselves deep within the locks of my hair. Strangled sounds were moaning from my throat. My body shivered as chills ran up and down my spine. It felt like the world was fragile and if I didn't curl up into a tight ball, it would all fall apart.

Eyes prickling, I cursed in frustration. This was only the third fucking journal entry. What the hell am I getting headaches already for?

I grit my teeth and forced myself to open the book again. The words were swimming in front of my eyes but I managed to find the right page. _I'll finish the rest of this_, I swore determinedly. _Then I'll—stop for the night_.

Brain throbbing with pain, I picked up where I left off.

(xXx)

_Ludwig offered me a slice of his famously delicious chocolate_ _cake after dinner. It was absolutely perfect in terms of patisserie, yet I couldn't help but wonder if there was a hidden meaning baked into the soft interior of the cake. _

_~Utopia_

(xXx)

Shutting the journal, I placed it on the desk next to my bed as best I could. I turned off all the lights in the room. My head was hurting, my eyes were tired, and I truly couldn't find the spirit to keep reading.

Closing my eyes, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow—

—and then opened them to the nightmares that awaited me.

xXx

"Are you tired?" Matthew asked me after I yawned in the middle of my sentence.

I grinned it off. "Nah, it's nothing." I took a sip of iced tea. "Anyways, like I was saying, can I ask you a question, Mattie?"

"Yes?" Mattie said. Alfred, Ludwig, Felice, Kiku, and Ivan were eating breakfast, half keeping to themselves, half listening. Arthur sipped at his tea leisurely.

My mind flashed to the journal. "Two years ago… did you give me a book?" I said, making my voice unsure. "Like, a journal or something?"

Matthew paused in his eating and the others—now shamelessly listening to everything—stopped everything they were doing and stared at us. To my right, a sudden aura darkened the mood.

I wordlessly took in the feeling of Ivan's chilling stare, noticing that no one else was as intense as the boy next to me. To the others, he looked like his normal, quiet self. But I could feel the darkness rolling off of him like quietly burning fire. The detective in me awoke, asking a million questions. Why is he acting like this? Was he jealous that Matthew gave m—Utopia a journal? Is there something he wants to tell me? Is there something he doesn't want me to know?

Matthew seemed just as surprised as me when he realized that the whole table was staring.

"Tope had a diary?" Alfred exclaimed. "When? When did this happen?"

"Yeah," Matthew said, cautious of our audience. "Two years ago, for Tope's 16th birthday. I think it was a journal." He focused on me now. "I remember… I think I gave it to you because I thought that the leather was nice."

"Did you find it?" Ivan asked.

"Not really," I said indifferently. "I had a weird dream last night. I remember writing in a journal, and that it was important, but that's it. I was just curious about it."

The others pulled back their ears, none too subtle about it. A few of them actually looked disappointed. Ivan's expression was unreadable, though his mood seemed to lighten a little.

"Wow," Alfred said as he slurped at his soda. "Who'd ever thought that Utopia had a journal? I bet there's all kinds of stuff in it."

"The journal of Utopia," Ludwig muttered. "Sounds ominous, don't you think?"

"Ve, what do you think is in it?" Felice chirped out of the blue. "Do you think she wrote about us?"

"I suppose so," Kiku said thoughtfully.

Alfred took another obnoxiously loud slurp of Cola. "Hey, Tope. If you ever find the journal, you'll show it to us, right?"

Glancing at the American, I was surprised to find a smile on his face that did not quite match the intensity of his eyes. Hiding under the façade of thinking, I finally replied with, "Maybe. But I would read it before showing you guys. You know, just in case."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Just in case for what?"

I, too, raised an eyebrow. "Really? Do I have to explain this to you?"

Felice raised his hand excitedly. "Ve, ve! I know this one!" He winked at me. "Utopia probably wrote about her _dolce metà, si?_"

"...sorry, what?"

I grinned along with Felice. He was a true Italian, I suppose. "You know," I said nonchalantly, teasing them. "A _petite amie. _A _novio. _A _schatz._"

Ludwig stared at me, his face slightly pink. "O-Oh," he muttered.

Alfred looked jealously between all three of us. "What?" he demanded. "What are you talking about?"

I rolled my eyes. "Alfred, it's a _journal_, right? Like, a diary?"

At this, nearly everyone at the table grasped what I was trying to say, exluding Alfred, who still looked extremely confused. "I still don't get it," he whined.

I sighed. "A boy, Alfred. I'd read it first before showing it to you because there could've been some legit gushy, lovey-dovey feelings in that journal."

Realization dawned in the American's eyes as he dragged out a very long and very loud, "Ohhh…"

Too late, though. The joke was already dead and gone. Shaking my head at Alfred's obliviousness, I moved the conversation somewhere else. "So, New Years is coming up. Does the academy do anything special? Or…"

"No," Kiku replied. "But many of us have our own traditions to follow."

"Oh!" Alfred exclaimed. "_That's_ what I needed to tell you guys! New Year's party, the lounge, just us…uh…" He silently counted the number of people at the table. "One, two…seven! Oh, plus Francis and Yao, so that's nine!"

I frowned at him. "Alfred, it's ten."

"What? No," he said, pointing to each person and counting. "One, two, three, four, five—"

"You just skipped Matthew."

"I did?" The American's eyebrows furrowed as he counted yet again. "One, two, three…" He blinked. "Oh, you're right. Ten." Alfred grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, bro. I blame it on vacation."

"Yeah, right," Matthew muttered inaudibly.

"So are we all good for New Years?" Alfred said. "We'll eat dinner in the lounge and watch a movie or something. Francis says that he'll even let us drink his best bottle of champagne."

"Where is that tosser anyways?" Arthur said. "Didn't he say that he'd be right back?"

"He's probably off doing what he does best," Ivan said, sighing. "Distracted by a pretty girl."

Everyone at the table agreed solemnly.

"A New Year's party sounds like fun!" Felice said excitedly. "We should all bring something to eat. I can make pasta!"

"_Da_, I agree!" Ivan said happily. "I can bring hot _borscht_ to ward off the cold."

"I will bring sashimi, if that is alright with everyone."

"If the lot of you are planning to bring something," said Arthur, "then I'll make some—"

"No!" Alfred cried out. "That's okay, Artie, you don't have to cook, bake, or _make_ anything for us! Especially your scones. Your scones taste like crap."

Arthur glared daggers at the American. "Will you stop ridiculing my food? I bake a perfectly fine scone. Besides, I was about to say that I would bring _tea_. _Tea_, you blundering idiot."

"Tea? Who the hell brings tea to a party?"

"Do you want scones instead?"

Alfred shook his head quickly. Arthur muttered darkly to himself.

"My scones are perfectly fine… Stupid Americans and their bloody lack of taste…"

"Right. Just keep telling yourself that," I said cheerily.

xXx

Later, in the evening, there was a knock on my door. I answered it to see Eliza's excited expression.

"Hey!" I said. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"And whose fault is that?" she teased. "You're always hanging with the boys. Save some time for your girls, too!"

My mind briefly flashed to a certain Belorussian. How was Natalya doing? Were we still somewhat-friends, or did she still hate me?

To Eliza, I said, "So, what's up? Did you need something?"

"Actually, I was wondering if you were doing anything tomorrow," she said. "Mr. Roderich is coming back from his trip and I wanted to bake a cake to welcome him home. Feli is going to help. You should come, too!"

I hardly even had to think about it. "Sure!" I said, a little excited. "Sounds like fun."

Eliza looked very happy. "This is great! Where are you going to be at 10-ish?"

"Probably here," I said. "Maybe in the dining hall, but I'll probably be here."

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow. Good night!"

"Good night!"

(xXx)

_Day 4_

_Dear Journal, _

_I saw Feliks picking up the contents of his bag from the ground. I wonder if someone is picking on him or if he was always so uncoordinated. _

_Ludwig was absent from class today._

_~Utopia_

(xXx)

Head throbbing, I put the journal back in the desk drawer and turned off all the lights. The sky outside my window was dark and unclear. Only a few stars shone through the mysterious skyward lake.

That night, the nightmares took a frightening turn for the worse.

xXx

_I couldn't fight anymore. I was too weak. I was too afraid. _

_"St—ay—str—ng—!" a voice cried out. It was loud and screeching, cutting off repeatedly. "I to—you—way—ian—"_

_"I can't understand you!" I sobbed. I couldn't escape. I couldn't do anything. "Help me!" Muscles strained to resist, but my mind was already beginning to shut down. The darkness looming above me was crushing my bones. I could hardly breathe. Everything was so overwhelming. _

_"Sta—strong—" the voice cried out again. "Be—are—of th—ussian—"_

_"What?" I was suffocating. The darkness was taking over. _

_"—Russian!" the voice screamed. "Stay away from the—"_


End file.
